The work of George W. Joy : with an autobiographical sketch, thirty Rembrandt photogravures, sixteen reproductions in colours, and other illus

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THE WORK OF GEORGE W. JOY.

This Edition is Limited to 1,000
Copies, of which this is No.Y.jr.

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The Work of

GEORGE W. JOY

WITH AN

Autobiographical Sketch

Thirty Rembrandt Photogravures, Sixteen

Reproductions in Colours, and other

Illustrations

CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED

LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE

MCMIV
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

7

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PRESENT AND OLD
HARROVIANS

THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

BY
ONE OF THEMSELVES

CONTENTS.

PAGE

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH i

TECHNICAL NOTES . . .... 31

SOME REMARKS ON THE NUDE IN ART . . • • 39

NOTES ON THE PICTURES ... .43

All the colour-blocks in this volume were
produced by Messrs. Andre & Sleigh, Ltd.,
of Bushey, •with the exception of " Pamela's
Birthday," "Dreams on the Veldt," and
" A Drummer of the Peninsular" which
•were produced by the Societi Lyonnaise de
Photo- Chroma- Gravure.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

IN THE TEXT.

GEORGE W. JOY, 1896. By p*o«

Himself Facsimile of Chalk Drawing. To face i

WILLIAM BRUCE JOY, M.D. . From the Medallion by A. B. Bruce-Joy i

STUDY FOR "NELSON'S FIRST

FAREWELL " . . . . Facsimile of Chalk Drawing. To face 6

MARGERY MAY : STUDY FOR

"THE MAID OF ORLEANS" . „ „ „ „ 10

A DORSET PEASANT : STUDY FOR

A HEAD OF CHRIST „ „ „ „ 14

GEORGE W. JOY, 1900. By

Himself „ „ ,, ,,22

FLORENCE : STUDY FOR A PICTURE „ „ ., „ 24

ROSALIND „ „ „ ,,28

STUDY FOR "THE FAIR FLAG-
MAKER" „ „ „ „ 30

SKETCH OF A CHILD „ „ „ Page 31

FIRST SKETCH FOR "THE FAIR

FLAGMAKER „ „ „ To face 32

LT.-COL. W. L. HUTCHINSON, R.A. „ „ „ „ 36

HILDA DE ANGELIS „ „ „ „ 40

A STUDY : HEAD OF AN ARAB . Reproduction in Colours „ 43

PICTURES REPRODUCED.

JOAN OF ARC — "A Light of Ancient France" FRONTISPIECE

Rembrandt Photogravure.
ELLA, DAUGHTER OF THE REV. J. HUME

TOWNSEND, D.D. Reproduction in Colours

LEAR AND CORDELIA . . . ... Rembrandt Photogravure

GRISELDA — " Flower of Wifely Patience " . . Reproduction in Colours

THE MAID OF ORLEANS Rembrandt Photogravure

NELSON'S FIRST FAREWELL . .' . . Reproduction in Colours

Vlll

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FLORA MACDONALD'S FAREWELL TO PRINCE
CHARLIE

WELLINGTON'S FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE
FRENCH

ROSE, SHAMROCK AND THISTLE . . -,. \

THE FAIR FLAGMAKER .

THE BAYSWATER OMNIBUS .

THE KING'S DRUM . . • .

GENERAL GORDON'S LAST STAND . * .

A MERCHANTMAN SEEKING GOODLY PEARLS

PALM SUNDAY : " WAITING FOR THE LORD "

AN OFFERING . . . . x . . .

CHRIST AND THE LITTLE CHILD . '. ' . ;'

BABY BEDOUIN

THE KING'S DAUGHTER . . . .; .

» » » • • •

A DINNER OF HERBS ,

FLORENCE, DAUGHTER OF T. MASTERMAN, ESQ.

(THE ARTIST'S WIFE)

THE DANAIDS

A FAIR ARCHER (GRACE NICHOLSON) .

A KELPIE

A. B. BRUCE- JOY, ESQ., R.H.A.' ....

TRUTH

A QUIET NAP

THE REV. ALFRED EDERSHEIM, D.D. .

SEA BREEZES

BRITANNIA

DREAMS ON THE VELDT

THE WHISPERED PRAYER

KATHLEEN, DAUGHTER OF THE REV. W. A.

WILSON

LADY DAFFODIL

PAMELA'S BIRTHDAY

POOR BULGARIA

PIXIES . \ . i •

PHIL, SON OF GERALD ROBINSON, ESQ. (Sketch)
GUARDIAN ELVES . .

LESBIA'S SPARROW

GIRL AND DOG (Sketch)

PATIENCE

A DRUMMER OF THE PENINSULAR
LAODAMIA

Rembrandt Photogravure

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

» »

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure
Rembrandt Photogravure

Reproduction in Co/ours
Rembrandt Photogravure

)> >t

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure
Reproduction in Colours

Rembrandt Photogravure

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure
Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure
Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

» »

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

» »

Reproduction in Colours
Rembrandt Photogravure

GEORGE W. JOY (1896).

BY HIMSELF.

J .

MY FATHER: WILLIAM BRUCE JOY, M.D.

Medallion by A. B. Bruce-Joy, K.H A.

I.

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

A a child and boy I was a dreamer of dreams, and one
of my dreams was a strange one. I thought I was
standing in my father's house, and from behind the door
was watching the arrival of the guests. In they came, one after
another ; but who was this little chap coming in with them ?
He was about my age, wore clothes like mine, his hair was long
and straw-coloured, and lay like a great mat upon his head.
Who could he be? He turned and looked me full in the face-
it was myself! Even so do I now feel strangely as I once
more encounter myself in these pages.

*»*»****

It was undoubtedly from my mother, Arminella Vance, that I
received my first impulses in art. Hers was an imaginative,
c

2 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

highly-strung nature, which seemed ever to be living in a land
of wondrous possibilities — a land bordering on the infinite, in
which all beauty dwelt, and which the poet, the painter,
and the prophet had peopled for her with high and noble
ideals. In these, more real to her even than her everyday
life, she lived, and according to them she strove to train
her children. She loved the stars, and stepped boldly out
into the night. For her the infinite had no terrors. Herself
a poet and authoress, she loved all poetry and literary effort.
Painting, though she never practised it, was her delight, and
painters, to her, the happiest of men. Possessed, too, of a
voice that Garcia pronounced to be one of the finest he had
ever heard, she was, altogether, an accomplished woman, with
sympathies that were almost cosmopolitan. Around her, in
youth and middle life, all that was best in literature and art was
wont to gather. To her, then, together with the circumstances
of my early childhood, I owe my love of art and my delight
in music. For during many years we were constantly travelling.
At Dresden, Venice, Florence, Rome, and Paris, where our
journeys were broken for a time, we had the run of the galleries,
and were thus afforded opportunities of seeing all the finest works
in ancient and modern art. Even then I exercised my pencil,
for I remember making sketches at the Borghese Palace and of
many of the Italian and Alpine villages through which we passed.
I also copied the principal figures in Raphael's " Transfiguration "
and other pictures, while my father and mother, of course, served
as subjects for many of these early sketches. From my father,
William Bruce Joy, M.D., a medallion of whom (by my brother)
is here illustrated, I probably inherited some of my patriotic and
military instincts. Scholar though he was, and devoted to the
scientific side of his profession, he, to the day of his death,
regretted that he was not a soldier, and his great desire for
me was that I should adopt that profession.

It was thus that I found myself, at the age of ten, with a
nomination for Woolwich, at Jeffrey's school on Shooter's Hill.
A poor little half-foreigner, who did not know beef from mutton,
and who spoke his own language less fluently than French or
German, or even Italian.

Collingwood, Sandeman, Napier, Hazlerigg; such were the
names of some of my schoolfellows. Right good fellows they

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 3

were, too, and I have often wondered what has become of them
all.

Soldiering and art were the only two professions I ever
thought of seriously. Through an accident, which nearly cost me
my foot when twelve years of age, and which caused temporary
delicacy, I was, however, pronounced by my father unfit for
the " services," and eventually transferred to Harrow. There,
for nearly five years, under Vaughan's and Butler's head-master-
ships, I was, I think, as happy as a boy could be. During
all my schoolboy days my pencil was idle, with the exception of
a few caricatures of masters and bovs.

On leaving school, at the age ot nineteen, I adopted art as a
profession, though at heart I desired to be a soldier. I managed,
however, in a manner to satisfy my military cravings by serving
for twenty-one years in the Volunteers. After all the eager bustle
of a public school it may well be imagined that I found Ken-
sington a very quiet place. Among my fellow-students were
such men as Professor Herkomer, Samuel Butler, and Lord
Carlisle, but it was not until I entered the Royal Academy
School, and its " Life " class, that I began to feel my feet.

Think of the delight and pride of a student in having the
great master, Millais, then in the zenith of his power, sitting
on a bench beside him, taking his palette, and painting on his
study. What impressed me most concerning Millais was the
dash and fury with which he struck his brush into medium and
paint, and the skill with which he would extricate form from
chaos, as, for instance, in the delicate convolutions of the ear.
At another time it would be Leighton who was the visitor,
kindly sharpening your white chalks for you, whilst at work upon
some "time study" from one of those wonderful Greek draperies,
full of intricate folds, in which he delighted. During my student-
ship it was not Watts's habit to come to the schools, but it was
understood that he would always be glad to see any student at his»
house; and of this kind permission I later on frequently ' availed
myself.

What, then, was my first impulse in art, my first intention or
inspiration, to use a much-abused word? It was, I confess, indefinite.
Beauty and character were to be aimed at; the beauty of childhood,
of youth, of old age. The shadowy beauty of dreams, no less than
such subjects as might be illustrative of the stern realities of life.

4 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

One day when I called on Sir Frederick Burton, he asked me
what I was going to paint. I was filled with confusion. I had
been living in a land of dreams, and had, I am afraid, little to
say for myself. "You tell me you are going to paint in oils.
I did not ask you what vehicle you were going to use, but what
subjects you were intending to paint. To be an artist is to
have a calling, an inspiration, a longing desire to paint one thing
above everything else in the world. Do you feel a desire to
paint the men and women of your own times, as you see them,
and become a portrait painter ? Or to paint Nature as she
surrounds you on all sides in her beauty, and become a land-
scape painter ? Or are you ambitious, and do you want to paint
what are called ideal works ? " Well, I could not answer, and if
I could have done I should probably have found it as
difficult as to classify and account for some of my actual work
as shown in this book. Nothing comes amiss to me ; everything
gives me pleasure in its production. From year to year my
work becomes more fascinating, more dear, more engrossing.
On the other hand, I feel more and more its limitations, its
disappointing inequalities and shortcomings ; not only in the
execution, but in the very conception of some of my sin-
cerest efforts after excellence.

It was about the time of my visit to Burton that I was
bitten with a desire to study in Paris ; and to Paris I went
with an introduction in my pocket from Edward Armitage to
Jalabert. My intention had been to study in the Schools of the
Beaux Arts, but it happened that in that very year a decree had
gone forth that no more foreigners should be admitted. There
was some fear that they would swamp the Frenchmen. In this
dilemma my kind friend and master, Charles Jalabert — for so I
must now call him — came to my rescue, and offered me a seat
in a corner of his studio. This I gratefully accepted, and worked
•there very happily for nearly two years, dividing my day some-
what in the following manner: Seven o'clock till eleven o'clock,
life class at Bonnat's ; then lunch ; and the rest of the day
spent at Jalabert's, painting from models, still life, and pictures.
There, too, some kind Frenchman— the Due d'Aumale, I believe —
lent me a head by Velasquez to copy, a privilege for which I can
never be grateful enough. I had the audacity to scrape a little
piece off the corner to see what ground it was painted on, and

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 5

discovered it to be a warm, transparent, earthy red. Next to
Millais's wonderful demonstration lesson, to which I have alluded,
I learned more from copying this picture and the " Interior," by
Peter de Hooghe, in our own National Gallery, than from any-
thing I have ever done. I would strongly recommend every young
artist to try and copy just two such works (say the head of
Philip IV. and this de Hooghe) before he deems himself fully
equipped for his life's work. The one will teach him many a
secret as to the correct rendering and modelling of the subtler
flesh tones, and the other a lesson, never to be forgotten, in light,
and its management in painting. In any case, the task should
teach him humility.

At that time, and, indeed, until the day of his death, which
occurred in 1901, Jalabert, though he rarely exhibited his works,
was in great vogue as a portrait-painter. It was interesting to
see his sitters, quiet and strikingly nai've and simple in their
manners and dress, many of them of the ancienne noblesse, or
Orleanist party. Among them, too, there came pretty frequently
the Grand Duchess Marie, sister of the ill-fated Emperor Alex-
ander, a most striking and noble-looking person.

One day, when the master was late in his arrival, she came
to my corner of the studio to see my first picture. " What ! "
she said, " you want me to look in the glass ; you say it looks
better thus. Do you suppose, if I bought it, I could carry about
a great looking-glass like that to see it in ? You know I am on
my travels." This picture was " Domenica," hung at the Royal
Academy, and now the property of my cousin, J. Holmes Joy,
M.D.

Still more interesting was it to make the acquaintance of
such men as Gerome, Cabanel, Jules Breton, Lefebvre, and
Rousseau, brother of the great landscape painter. All of these
were frequent visitors, and warmly attached to Jalabert. On
being taken to G£r6me's studio, I was struck by the simplicity
of its arrangement. There was in it but one article of furniture,
a great wardrobe of beautiful design, on the top of which was a
model of a full-rigged three-decker, and an easel in the middle of
the room on which was a small picture. On the other hand,
Rousseau, who was a lover of colour, and one of the greatest
still life-painters of his day, had exactly opposite views. His studio
was a treasure-house of Eastern carpets, curios, tapestries, and

6 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

antique furniture ; great stuffed birds, with outspread wings, were
poised in air, whilst the dim light half hid, half revealed all
the wonders of the place. In the midst of these, as in some
Eastern palace of enchantment, and like some old Rembrandt
portrait brown with age, sat the great enchanter himself, mildly
puffing at his pipe. It was from him I learned to realise that
in order to give the full value to colour tones they must not
be viewed or painted in the garish light of day, but in subdued
and sombre light, far from the hateful square north window of the
studio. We students were not expected to let the grass grow
beneath our feet. From early morning till evening our days
were mapped out ; nor were we encouraged to pay visits, or
waste our time at parties. The theatre, however, was another
matter, and visits thereto regarded as part of our artistic training.
Many were the delightful opportunities of seeing at the Fran9ais,
or the Odeon, all that was best in that direction. I also found
time for an occasional concert, and had the good fortune to
be present at the Cirque d'Hiver, when Pasdeloup made his
historic attempt to introduce Wagner to an unwilling Parisian
public. The great building was crowded to overflowing, and
when the conductor took his seat and saluted his friends right
and left, there was a calm such as precedes the storm. Barely,
however, had the first few bars of the overture been played,
when a perfect hurricane of hisses and loud booings arose,
mingled with such shouts as "A has Wagner," "A bos les
Allemands" etc. Hardly ever have I heard such a din, whilst
the dust, from the stamping of feet, rose in clouds to the roof.
In the middle of it all was to be seen the portly form of
Pasdeloup, wildly gesticulating; but although he was evidently
speaking, or rather shouting, nothing was to be distinguished for
many minutes. At last he was heard to say: "You must
hear me, messieurs. The second part of the concert will not
be proceeded with until you have heard Wagner. The time
will come when he will be heard, when he will be popular— in
Paris." Again the orchestra struck up ; again a din as before ;
again the wildly gesticulating conductor: "Patience, gentlemen,
patience, you shall hear him— the eyes of all men are upon you.
I say the time will come when Wagner will be the most
popular composer in France— you must hear him ! " And so,
though there was a demonstration before each succeeding Wagner

STUDY FOR "NELSON'S FIRST FAREWELL."

i

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AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. ^

piece, the second part of the concert at last was reached, and
peace and harmony reigned once more. If painting be my
profession, music is certainly my pastime and my passion, and
few pleasures in life can surpass, to me, that of being left alone
with a good piano, to strum and improvise at " my own sweet
will." Nevertheless, the violin was, for many years, my instru-
ment. At one time my dear old master, Maciejowski (friend
of Chopin, Spohr, and Paganini), actually did his best to
persuade me to become a professional player ; but, if I ever
humoured him in this respect, it was only because I could not
bear to hurt his feelings — for I never had any serious thoughts
of being anything but either a soldier or an artist.

In addition to these reminiscences of artists it is necessary,
in this sketch of my Paris life, that I should make some
reference, however slight, to the house of Goupil, and its head,
M. A. Goupil, the great publisher, and one of Jalabert's
staunchest friends. He lived during the summer months in a
great house in the Park, at Bougival, on the softly gliding
Seine. His three sons-in-law, one of whom was Ger6me, lived
in three smaller houses near him, and all would generally meet
at the great evening meal. Their family life was almost an
ideal one, and I consider it a great privilege to have sometimes
been allowed to share therein. On one occasion my fellow
pupil, Weisz, and I arrived dripping wet, and were accommo-
dated with marvellous costumes. Mine included an enormously
wide pair of striped sky-blue linen summer trousers. In these I
sat down to dinner with the rest of the guests en grande tenue.
The Goupils on one occasion, also, gave a costume ball at
their town house, to which none but artists were invited, and
never have I seen such gorgeous and fantastic dresses. Nearly
all of them were genuine Persian, Turkish, Albanian, Indian,
Watteau, or Japanese, but the memory of one among them
stands out above all the others : a little grey pearl ; an American
girl in Quaker costume.

But I am becoming garrulous. Suffice it to say that, after
nearly two such years of study and hard work, I returned to
London, and commenced my life as an artist. It was not
without frequent attempts to win back and make a Frenchman
of me, that my dear friend and master acquiesced in this plan.
He often wrote to me, inviting me to return, and in his own

8 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

pretty way suggested that " votre petit coin de l} atelier soupirc
apres vous."

He promised that if I returned I should very soon be able
to make my way as an artist. Nevertheless, I did not return.
I felt, and my father was also strong on the point, that my
training should be completed in England. I think now, as I
thought then, that we were right. Though I had learned much,
there were yet some things that I had to unlearn. Among
them were a somewhat hard and dry manner, a too great
insistance on drawing and anxiety about outline, a lack of
freedom of touch and of a realisation of the immense importance
of strong local colour in painting. That these faults, or some of
them, still cling to me, does not discourage me ; but, on the
contrary, tends to keep me alert, and gives zest to my strivings
after excellence.

There are in mine, and must be in every life, sources of
regret; regret at loss of time and neglected opportunities. I have
often figured to myself how different my artistic career might
have been, and how much time I might have saved in my
gropings after Truth, had I but used those simple opportunities
that were to my hand. Of all these regrets my greatest and
abiding one is, that, with George Mason at one time working in
a studio next to mine in dingy old Theresa Terrace, Hammer-
smith ; and later on, with Fred Walker within a stone's
throw of my house, I knew neither one nor the other. I am
convinced now that either of them would have been pleased to
see me, had I but plucked up courage to call upon them.

Yet another opportunity missed, and deeply deplored by me,
was that when Bastien Lepage came to stay with a friend at
Harrow, I did not meet him. It might have been easily arranged for
me to do so ; more especially as he had declared that my
portrait of Herr Otto Peiniger, his host (exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1877), had pleased him. But that, too, was not to
be, although there is hardly any modern painter whose work I
admired so much, nor whose early death was more genuinely
deplored by me.

Perhaps the best way of completing this sketch will be for me
to give some account of the manner in which my principal pictures
were painted, and to this task I will now address myself.

I have suggested later on, how I imagined things ought to be

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 9

done. How very different my practice has often been, will
shortly appear.

My earliest effort at a picture (" Domenica," alluded to on p. 5,
was my first exhibited work) represented a little cottage girl standing
mending her stocking whilst warming her foot on the "harmless,
necessary cat." That picture never saw the light ; but, curiously enough
I have since seen at one of the exhibitions an exactly similar
subject. Evidently, as Adams and Leverrier discovered the planet
Neptune almost simultaneously, and independently worked out
their 'wondrous calculations, so did we, great painters that we
were, strike on one and the same great inspiration ! But I pass on
to my first serious attempt after my return to England, " Laodamia,"
which was exhibited in the Academy in 1878. Intended originally
merely as a life-sized nude study and as part of a group in a far
more ambitious subject, I subsequently draped it, and, at the suggestion
of my friend William Woodroffe, put to it Wordsworth's lines from
" Laodamia." In this picture I tried, in my own way, to give
full value to the low flesh tones, seen in the fading light of
day against a deep, blue sea. I made studies for it in North
Devon, in the previous year (the year of my marriage). It was
well hung in the Royal Academy, and favourably noticed in the
Times, which spoke of it as one of the two best ideal pictures
of its year.

To a painter, however, the praise of his fellow craftsmen is
ever the dearest, and is, in fact, the only praise he really
values. I well remember the thrill of pleasure I experienced
after a warm shake of the hand and a few kindly words of apprecia-
tion as to its colour from a notable painter.

The picture subsequently went to Paris, where it was hung in
the Salon, but without either number or name ! Nor was I able
to correct this strange oversight, as I only heard of it a few days
before the close of the Exhibition. Since then it has been to
New Orleans, but on account of its being placed too near the engine
room on the way home, was so badly scorched by the heat, that I
have never shown it since. Unfortunately, I had not insured it.
Since then I have insured everything ; but nothing ever happens
now.

" Lear and Cordelia " owed its existence to the fact that my
father, now grown an old man, was such a perfect model for the
subject, and always suggested it to my mind. He kindly

io AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

humoured me — much I fear, to his own discomfort — by allowing
his hair and beard to grow long and tangled. For my Cordelia
I was honoured by sittings from a very charming friend, which
made the painting of this picture a pleasant incident on which to
look back. Refused at the Academy, it was sold shortly after-
wards to Colonel Harding, who presented it to the Municipal Art
Gallery at Leeds. It has since been seen at the Guildhall, as
one of the representative pictures of the Victorian Era. The
background was painted from the crumbling walls of old St.
Bartholomew's Church, in the City.

Before, and subsequently to this period, I painted a good
many portraits, and, to the born portrait painter, I can imagine
no more delightful and interesting method of spending his time.
Nor are there any works of art of greater value to the student,
or the world at large, than some of the great portraits of ancient
and modern times.

The qualifications of a successful portrait painter are many and
various. There must be a rapid faculty of vision, a retentive
memory to hold what is seen, and the genius to truly grasp
the character of the subject. In addition, too, there, must be
the power and habit of - conversation, and shall I say an
utter unconcern as to what the sitter may think of the completed
work ? With all this, however, I doubt whether it is wise to
be always painting portraits. Titian, Tintoret, Velasquez, Rem-
brandt, and, in fact, nearly all the great painters of the past,
painted other subjects, as the fancy took them, in between their
portraits. This habit probably restored and kept alive the fresh-
ness and vigour of their portraits, whilst it enriched the world
with many noble masterpieces in totally different fields of art.

For my own part, I never felt quite happy when painting
portraits, partly, perhaps, from a too great anxiety to please my
sitters — which, as I have explained, I do not consider the proper
attitude towards them — and partly because I found them so
engrossing as to make it impossible to carry on any other work
simultaneously. It is for this cause that I have frequently had
to refuse them altogether.

It was when painting a portrait of a banker in the north of
England that I received a further commission to do six replicas,
and it was then that I wished I had pupils. But my toil, on that
occasion, was as nothing compared to the drudgery that a

MARGERY MAY.

STUDY FOR "THE MAID OF ORLEANS."

Y/-M YH

iO ClIAfA

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. u

student in Paris had once to undergo. He was a beginner,
and in order to earn money with which to carry on his studies,
he accepted work in a certain manufactory of religious pictures.
There he had to copy the same Virgin and Child over and over
again; the pay being according to the number he produced in
the day. At length he became so proficient, that he assured
me he earned a napoleon and a half a day, though I forget
how many finished pictures this represented.

On another occasion, when painting the portrait of George
Yeoman Heath, the great surgeon and munificent benefactor of
Durham University, my wife and I stayed at Cocken Hall. As
my sitter, who was also my host, only came down for the
week's end, I had all the fun of being in possession, and
imagined myself, for the time being, a country squire or great
landed proprietor. Here I made the acquaintance of one of the
noblest dogs I have ever seen. Nero and my little girl were
great friends. A lick of his great red tongue used to cause
her whole face to disappear, and a wag of his heavy tail to
bowl her over. He was a great thoroughbred mastiff; and to
see him bounding through the bracken and tangled undergrowth,
like some tawny lioness, added greatly to the pleasure of our
rambles. One of the loveliest of these was " Lady Mary's
Walk." From here the river Wear could be seen meandering
along in the valley below, sky blue, amidst the gorgeous autumn
foliage. It possessed, too, the added charm, that the Lady
herself was sometimes to be met there — not by "the pale
moonlight," as other wandering ghosts — but in the twilight hour,
or even in broad daylight.

In this manner my portraits, although the bulk of them were
painted in my studio, took us at one time to the north of Ireland,
at others to Durham, Tynemouth, Cambridge, Bridport, or
elsewhere, thus affording an excuse for many a pleasant holiday
and bringing me many new friends.

Of all portraits, those of children are the most fascinating.
If the sitters would but give us a chance, our best work would
certainly be done from them.

There is but one method of painting very young children,
which is to tell them a story. I find this easier than making
conversation for "grown-ups." A little thing, too, sometimes
pleases a child and puts it in a good humour with its tor-

12 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

mentor, the artist. For one little man I contrived an extra
door knocker, of very diminutive size, which was screwed on the
studio door. This always put him into a heavenly frame of
mind for the first five minutes of his sitting ; and in that time
much may be done with a child.

With one of my liveliest little sitters, H.R.H. Princess Alice
of Albany, the only possible way was to perch her on the
perilous end of the sofa. In this position, owing, probably, to
the novelty of the situation, she sat happily enough, provided she
had a good run round the great Red drawing-room every five
minutes or so. She was then but three years old, and I
think I must be allowed to break through court etiquette, so far
as to record her confidences to me. She told me that she
would never allow the same tall footman to carry her upstairs
on his shoulder, but gave them each a turn, so as not to show
favouritism or hurt their feelings. In these little ways she
endeared herself to all around her. She was also, undoubtedly,
a great favourite with Queen Victoria, who came daily to see
the progress of the work. Her first question was invariably
as to whether her " little Alice had been a good girl ? "

I shall ever look back to this time at Windsor as the most
memorable in my life; for- in it I was permitted to make the
acquaintance of that august lady — whom to know, even in that
passing way, was to reverence. From the first moment she stepped
into the room, so gracious was her manner, that she put one
entirely at one's ease, and thus greatly facilitated the work in
hand.

The more often one paints, or tries to paint, children, the
more astounded one must be at Reynolds' marvellous grasp of
child-nature. His children, almost alone, seem to have full life
and movement in them. Even when at rest, they breathe, and
thus make many of our greatest moderns look cold and photo-
graphic beside them. How this was accomplished, and how he
kept his children happy whilst painting them, has always been a
mystery. Certainly he must have been a great lover of children
— which is half the battle. In conclusion of this part of my
subject, I will quote Millais' most apt saying that " the painting
ot a child's head should be blown on to the canvas, rather than
painted."

In such matters as the sale of pictures the adage is very true

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 13

that " there's many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip." On
more than one occasion I, like other artists, have had to
deplore the loss of a sale, or the acceptance of an inferior
offer, through the vagaries of the post, or the carelessness of
servants in redirecting letters. These accidents are all the more
disconcerting to one's equanimity, as the market for such
commodities as pictures is now, to use a business term,
" quiet," indeed, I might say " dull." Times have sadly changed
since those days when, as I have been told, there was a mad
rush of eager buyers up the winding staircase of the " Old Water
Colour Society " in Pall Mall ; when dealers and other would-be
purchasers vied with each other to secure the pictures seen
through the glass doors, which were thus purchased before the
Exhibition was practically open. When, too, at the Royal
Academy red stars were to be seen on almost every picture
hung upon the coveted " line " ; and of when wonderful tales
are related as to how a Gambart, or an Agnevv, outwitted or
outraced each other, in their pursuit of some favoured or
fashionable artist's work.

Those fascinating little red stars, indicating the sale of a
picture, have unfortunately disappeared from most of our Exhibi-
tions. They were a great convenience to the picture buyer, and
saved him much trouble and frequent journeys to the Secretary's
office. Occasionally, however, they lead to odd mistakes ; as,
for instance, when the dusters of frames dusted them from one
picture to another, as once happened to one of my own pictures
at the Dudley Gallery. This incident prevented the possibility
of a sale whilst the Exhibition was open, and caused me much
unnecessary mortification after the picture was returned to me
unsold. This was " Polly " — one of my earliest exhibited
pictures, which is now owned by Mr. Albert Roller, and of
which Lord Cranbrook has a replica.

My first Joan of Arc, which was exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1881, and sold on private view day, was, like
" Laodamia," an outdoor subject. It was not as frankly so as
some of my later attempts, for while many of the studies were
done out-of-doors, both in colour and black and white, the
picture itself was painted in the studio. I had not then
discovered the necessity of taking several models out simultan-
eously in order to compare the tones at different distances ;

i4 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

neither did I appreciate the way in which hot and cool colours
delightfully intermingled on flesh tones, armour, etc. It is on the
just appreciation of all this that so much depends in outdoor work.
Like my " Laodamia," again, this picture was a low-toned work, in
which my primary object was colour. The time spent upon it
was a delightful one. I was staying with some good friends, whose
daughter kindly sat to me for my Joan. She was a splendid
little girl, a perfect horsewoman, who possessed that strange in-
fluence over animals which enabled her to take all sorts of
liberties with them. I have seen her sitting in the paddock,
leaning up against the forelegs of a favourite horse, reading her
book, whilst he patiently waited until she had finished. I was
also much amused by the way in which, after her own tiresome
sitting was over, she would jump on to the nearest horse — bare-
back, and scour about the fields, in the gloaming, over hedges
and ditches, like one possessed ! I was told that once, when she
was quite a child, she was severely bitten by the shepherd's dog,
who failed to recognise her as she rushed past him. No one heard
of the incident from her until the wound was actually healed.
On another occasion, her own collie, for killing a sheep, was
condemned to be shot. When the time for the execution
arrived, neither the dog nor the child could be found. Search
parties were sent in all directions, but it was not until after
nightfall that the two were discovered in a thick shrubbery close
to the house. The child's arms were clasped tightly round the dog's
neck, and she was sobbing as though her heart would break.
Needless to say, the dog was not shot, but, what is really
remarkable, he never killed another sheep !

" Palm Sunday " is chiefly to be noticed for the fact that in
it I made use of very heterogeneous material in the way of
models. The child in the centre was painted from a little
Welsh girl, sister of the model for my " Laodamia " ; the
old man on the left from Dr. Edersheim ; the central figure
from the Rev. Clayton Greene ; the woman from a lady
friend; and the little figure on the right from a butcher boy.
The dark, gesticulating figure in the background was painted from
an Italian organ-grinder. This man interested me greatly, for,
untutored and unskilled though he was, I found that he possessed,
like most of his race, an innate love and appreciation of art.
And his in spite of the fact that he had never in his life been

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AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 15

inside a picture gallery. To test it, I asked him to describe my
own picture ; and though he was shy in giving his opinion, and
required much pressing, I was astonished to find what a good
shot he made at it. About the same time, I invited into my
studio my two coal-heavers — nice, pleasant-looking Englishmen — and
asked them the same question. All they had to say for them-
selves was, " Werry nice picture — it ain't them Zulus, is it,
master? "

There is a rooted superstition among artists that if a
picture has a hole accidentally made in it, it is likely very
shortly to be sold. The only occasion on which such an event
happened to one of mine, this much-to-be-desired sequel did
actually follow.

It was in connection with my " Nelson's First Farewell," which I
had hung, for convenience, in a bedroom after its exhibition at
the Royal Academy. A young friend was occupying the room for
a night or two, and during some exercises with his umbrella he
managed to poke a hole in the knee of the principal figure. He
was, of course, profuse in his apologies, and very unhappy until I
was able to tell him shortly afterwards that the picture was sold,
and that I considered that it was to him that I owed this
piece of good luck. This picture, like " Laodamia," was much
knocked about in course of painting. As a matter of fact, it
began its existence as an illustration to the following passage
from Tennyson's " Idylls of the King " : —

" Here ceased the kindly mother out of breath ;

And Enid listened, brightening as she lay ;
Then, as the white and glittering star of morn

Parts from a bank of snow, and by and by
Slips into golden cloud, the maiden rose

And left her maiden couch, and robed herself,
Help'd by the mother's careful hand and eye,

Without a mirror, in the gorgeous gown ;
Who, after, turned her daughter round, and said

She never yet had seen her half so fair. "

Marriage of Geraint.

For lack of a suitable model for Enid, I abandoned it. About
this time I happened to read Southey's " Life of Nelson," and
simultaneously came across an excellent model for my young hero.
I thereupon changed the sex and character of the principal figure,
and altered the composition of the whole picture; only my dear

X6 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

mother's personality did I retain, which I thought apt to the new
subject.

" Nelson " was the first of four pictures which appeared as
coloured prints in Messrs. CasselPs Christmas annual, " Yule Tide,"
and it has always pleased me to think of the many nurseries in
England and the Colonies into which this, and its companion
picture "Wellington," have penetrated. Sometimes, too, I have
seen them in little country inns, or by the flickering firelight
through the windows in roadside cottages. It was also pleasant
to hear, from one of the officers, of the eager rush, when some
half-dozen copies arrived at the front, during the Burmese War.

In 1885 " Reverie " was bought by the President of the
Academy for the New Zealand Government, and now hangs in
the gallery at Christchurch. It represents a girl, violin and bow
in hand, sitting on the edge of a fine old Louis XV. marqueterie
table, resting from her practice.

In 1888, in " The Danaids," I again tried my hand at the
nude, and as, I believe, it has been more frequently exhibited
than any of my pictures, I will refer to it at some length. Painted
entirely without vehicle, and in a very simple scheme of colour,
it has a certain fresco-like appearance, which was duly noticed in
the French critiques. It has also just that amount of sunny
warmth in the flesh tones, which is not incompatible with a certain
neutral or silvery undertone. The youthful figure is relieved against
white slabs of onyx, through which, here and there, streaks of
wandering rose-coloured stains are to be seen, and above against
dark, but still neutral red.

I had to make models in wax of the cave, and of the little
figures coming down the steps, before I satisfied myself as to the
correctness of the light. There was also a question as to whether
I should paint the feet as they would be in Nature, refracted and
shortened under water, or with their natural shape, and I chose
the latter — a less scientific, but more graceful rendering. The
picture was hung on the line at the Academy, and, I believe,
at every other exhibition to which it was sent. It was also well
received everywhere by the art-loving public. One of my principal
critics in England, however, handled it so severely that, sorely
discouraged, I went to Paris, and, armed with a photograph of the
picture, called on M. Chapu, the eminent sculptor. I did not
know him personally, and had no introduction, but I put the

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 17

photograph into his hands, and said : " Look at this, and tell me
quite honestly what you think of it ; and whether the following
criticism " (translating it to him) " is a just one, or not." He
looked at it very carefully for some minutes, and then said :
" Only send it to us, and you will see how it will be received."
Accordingly, next year I sent it to the Salon, where its approval
was unanimous, and without a single discordant note. Subse-
quently, this picture went to Munich, Brussels, Chicago, St.
Petersburg, and Moscow. Its final resting place is at Hamburg,
where it hangs in the house of Herr L. Lippert, with a room to
itself, and with such surroundings as few pictures can boast.
This picture originally was but a half length, on panel, and it
was owing to Mr. Watts's kindly encouragement that I finished
it in its present form. Sir L. Alma-Tadema also greatly assisted
me with several suggestions during the progress of the work.
The chief of these was that more light should be introduced into
the background. He proved the force of this, in a very practical
and offhand manner, by plastering a great piece of newspaper
against the leg of the figure. This I interpreted afterwards as a
slab of white onyx, the effect of which was to throw the whole
picture into proper tone, and greatly enhance the beauty of the
colour.

Though painted some five years afterwards, this is perhaps a
fitting place to mention the picture of "Truth." Purity of form,
even more than colour, was my great aim in this work. The
delicate tones of the flesh were made to blend and to lose them-
selves, as far as possible, in the surrounding tones of the back-
ground.

It was apropos of this picture, and some trivial criticism upon
it, that my old master, Jalabert, in my presence, said, as is re-
counted in the recently published book upon him : " Non, noil, il
est plus fort que nous " ; and this generous appreciation from one,
whom I knew was not addicted to fine speeches, was more to
me than a thousand newspaper paragraphs. The picture was not
nearly so great a traveller as " The Danaids," as it was acquired
by the German Government at the yearly International Exhibition
at Berlin after its trip to the Paris Salon.

The colour of the child, catching the golden light on hair
and chubby arm, and the warm greens of the leafage above, all
carefully studied from Nature, in due relation to the almost

!8 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

silvery warmth of the " Truth," formed sufficient excuse for such
a picture. The legend was all ' my own invention,' in the words
of the knight in " Alice Through the Looking Glass " ; and, like
him, in my literary efforts at any rate, I seem to be always
tumbling off and getting on again.

As in the case of " Nelson," so in the " Wellington's First
Encounter with the French," I found there were absolutely no
authentic sketches or portraits of the hero executed during childhood
or boyhood. I had therefore to content myself with any available
prints, and, from these, trying as well as I could to imagine them
as boys. I was, I think, fortunate in both cases with my models.

The next year, 1900, was for me a blank, and for this reason.
I painted a picture, which, fortunately for me, never saw the light
of an exhibition, and which has since disappeared. Not, however,
before Mr. Percy Thomas had made a very good and delicate
etching of it, which I value as his work. It represented Welling-
ton as an old man, going his rounds as Warden of the Cinque
Ports. It was suggested by Longfellow's lines :

"No more, surveying with an eye impartial

The long line of the coast,
Shall the gaunt .figure of the old Field Marshal
Be seen upon his post."

I believe the likeness and character were well preserved, but
the picture failed through lack of colour in the background. I
had not then grasped the extreme importance of getting rapid
impressions, whilst the eye was fresh, instead of hanging over one's
work. In a bright outdoor light — especially with such surround-
ings as the white chalk cliffs of Dover — the eye becomes
fatigued, almost atrophied, and cannot do its work properly.
Even with such a failure, however, I derived great pleasure in
painting this picture, as it introduced me to much I should not
otherwise have known in respect to the " Iron Duke " and his ways.
I also made a more successful set of studies for another
picture of him in his little room at Walmer Castle, which some
day I hope to paint. It was interesting, too, to see at Apsley
House that great array of uniforms, apparently of every nationality,
and of every regiment with which, in an honorary capacity, he
was connected. From these I chose the one he habitually wore :
a sort of dark blue short frock coat, with hooks and eyes down

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 19

the front, and a collar which could be worn either up or down.
In the former case it represented uniform, in the latter mufti.
This was only one of those many examples of the Duke's love
of simplicity and hatred of show of any kind. My friend, Captain
Ross, who was always considered very like him, sat for me, and
verified the fact that Wellington was 5 ft. 10 in. in height,
although I fancy that, judged by his bowed figure in old age,
many would have taken him for much less. There was one
article of dress that, by the then Duke's orders, I was absolutely
forbidden to take out of the house. It was the old Duke's
chimney-pot hat, which was an object of veneration in the
family.

In the following year, 1891, my exhibit at the Academy was
" Flora Macdonald's Farewell to Prince Charlie." This subject
was given to me by Messrs. Cassell. I would here like to say
that I stipulated, and they agreed, that I should paint the picture
of any size, and in any way I pleased. On these conditions
alone, I think, should a commission be accepted. I might add,
indeed, that I am most averse to commissions of any kind ; for
I prefer to do my own work in my own way. On one occasion I
refused a tempting offer for a series of four pictures from a con-
viction that, in its execution, I might probably please neither
myself nor anyone else.

" The King's Drum " and " The Fair Flagmaker " were
among the first pictures painted after the settlement in our new
house in Palace Court. They mark, I think, a distinct advance
in technique. The former was a genuine outdoor picture. It was
painted near Friston, in Suffolk, during a holiday, and hardly a
touch was added to it indoors.

My studio at Friston — and I never had a better one — cost me
but £5. It was a log hut, 9 ft. square, with an old cucumber
frame let into the roof. One end was open, and constituted my
window. The door faced this window, so that when I chose I
could leave it open, and get a long run back to look at the
effect of my work. I am bound to say the hut had one defect,
it was not watertight; but with so many virtues to recommend it,
that one little fault was not of much moment.

My models were but farm labourers and boys of the neigh-
bourhood, and I found them sturdy and useful sitters, who cared
nothing for rain or mud. The painting of this picture revealed

20 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

many things to me. The wonderful play of hot and cold colours,
the soft edges of so-called outlines, eaten into by the all pervad-
ing light ; and the massing of the leafage, each mass with some
quaint or unexpected shape. Before I arrived at the tone and
colour of the various objects, and especially of the boy's scarlet
coat, I found it necessary to prop my canvas up some twenty
yards off in the open, beside my model. But this was all so
delightful and exciting that nothing seemed a trouble.

For the "Fair Flagmaker" or "The First Union Jack" — a
studio picture — I had the advantage of two excellent models ;
in addition to that, as I venture to think, of one of the best
periods of English costume. To any who may doubt this
latter assertion, I recommend a visit to the United Service
Institution in Whitehall, where may be seen books dealing with
the subject of the naval and military uniforms of the period.
Some of the coloured sketches in these volumes were evidently
executed by first-rate artists, and exhibit a surprising grace and
fitness of design.

This picture was first shown at the Academy, then at
Manchester, and subsequently at the Salon, where it became the
property of. M. Adrien Chevallier. It was originally acquired
by the Fine Art Society, who are the owners of the copyright.
The only serious objection ever made to it, was that it was
on too large a scale, " trop grand format" for the subject.
"Truth" — the example of my work with which, as far as the
execution is concerned, I have least fault to find, and to which
I shall allude again later on — appeared in 1893.

" The Death of General Gordon " and " Guardian Elves " were
exhibited in the following year. Of the latter I need only say,
that it was another genuine out of doors picture, painted without
shelter of any kind. It was commenced in Suffolk, and finished
amid the furze bushes behind my brother's house at Haslemere.

To the former I must allude at greater length. Just as in
my pictures of "The Fair Flagmaker" and the "Sister King-
doms," I was mildly political in the choice and suggestiveness of
my subject, at the time when feeling ran high on the subject of
" Home Rule," so in this picture of Gordon I was desperately
in earnest. On no historical or political event have I felt so
strongly as on this momentous one. I cannot bring myself to
look at it from any point of view but that of a betrayal of all

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 21

that was highest and best in our national instincts, life, and
traditions. A betrayal of one of the greatest men we ever
possessed ; of the anti-slavery cause in the Soudan ; as well as
of the doomed inhabitants of Khartoum, who had trusted to us,
and to our plighted word, to help and protect them.

It was therefore in the genuine hope of doing something,
however insignificant, to help on that awakening of the conscience
of the nation, that I undertook, with all due reverence, this great
subject.

My first step in the preparation of this picture was to
furnish myself with all the available knowledge from books. The
next was to apply to General Wingate, who was kind enough
to give me not only all the information which he had collected,
but an introduction to Colonel Watson, R.E., who had been
with Gordon, as his second in command, whilst he was Governor-
General of the Soudan. Colonel Watson was probably better
acquainted with the General's inner life and character than any
man living. And from him, or through him, I obtained copies
of every portrait that was known to exist of the General. He
also secured for me the loan of the Dervish arms and trappings,
their patched and threadbare coats, etc., and most important of all
he gave me a description of the uniform, the only one the
General was known to have with him at the time of his death.
It was, indeed, Mrs. Watson who packed the little valise which
formed all the luggage the General had sent after him, and with
which he crossed the desert on camel-back. He actually left
home in such haste as to go with practically nothing beyond
the clothes upon his back. I next asked Colonel Watson
kindly to make me a plan of the steps and courtyard at
Khartoum, and to show me exactly where Gordon was supposed
to have stood at the top of the stairs. This plan was carried
out, in lath and plaster, in the dusty farmyard at Friston ; and
there, with the aid of three or four dark models, I painted my
picture in the small hours of the morning in the summer of
1893. So anxious was I that it should be correct in every
particular as far as I could make it, that, even when it was far
advanced, I changed the whole effect in order to give more
accurately the direction of the slanting light of dawn, as it
would have appeared at that particular moment of time and
place. This was perhaps not to the advantage of the picture,

22 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

as I lost, thereby, much of the sheen and glance of light on
the arms of the advancing dervishes. It was done mainly with
a view to secure the absolute fidelity and truth of my repre-
sentation. I have since been told that in order to catch the
public favour such subjects should be painted as one thinks
they ought to have happened, and not as they actually occurred, and
I was given many instances in which this method had been
successfully adopted. Of all the criticisms on this picture there
were two that gave me most pleasure. One was expressed by
an artist — himself a war correspondent in the Soudan — whom I
found earnestly looking at it at the Academy, who said it gave
him a greater feeling of reality than anything he had seen of
the subject, and that he wished he had seen it previously to
making his own drawing. The other came from a French critic
when the picture was at the Salon, and was to the effect
that the picture marked a new epoch, a fresh departure, in the
history of such subjects. He thought the artist had evidently
painted his picture in strict accordance with the facts of the
drama, and not from imagination.

That small dark figure, standing out against the whitewashed
wall, in the dim morning - light, with the white-clad ragged
dervishes eager for their prey surging up from below, is truly
one of the most pathetic sights in all history. Stern determi-
nation, not unmixed with scorn, is in his whole bearing. One
cannot help being reminded of that other scene in dark Geth-
semane, the most momentous and tragic the world has ever
witnessed, and of the words : — " Whom seek ye ? "

To have had his warnings and advice rejected by his own
countrymen until too late, and to be slain by those he came to
succour and set free — such was Gordon's fate. What were his
thoughts, at that supreme moment ? Not of himself — one may
be sure — but of the doomed city ; of the fate foretold, and now
fulfilled to its uttermost.

What that fate was we know from eye-witnesses. In the next
few days, to the accompaniment of unspeakable horrors, 15,000 in-
habitants were massacred or led into hopeless slavery. There was
but one bright feature in this carnival of blood. There was no
desertion or treachery ; the starving and fever-stricken garrison fought
as best they knew, and fell fighting for the man they had learned to
love and trust.

GEORGE; w. JOY (1900).

BY HIMSELF. Executed for The Magazine of An.

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AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 23

I need only say in conclusion, with reference to this picture,
that I not only made many impressionist sketches of the effects
just before sunrise, both in colour and pencil, of groups of figures,
but on one or two grand occasions held, as it were, a complete re-
view of my forces. Not only did I have my coloured folk out, but
all the farm labourers as well, each in his assigned place. This was
done in order to see the correct co-relation of all the white gar-
ments, black heads, and glittering spears at one and the same
moment — that fateful moment between dawn and sunrise, when the
original scene was enacted.

My second " Joan of Arc " appeared in 1895. As it is the
picture of all others that has, on the whole, met with the most
general approval, I need not refer to it at great length. As it
was painted in the same year as the " Bayswater Omnibus," I
had only to turn from one picture to the other to obtain that
complete rest which comes from change of employment. This
was to the great advantage of both pictures. In my glasshouse at
home I had arranged the curtains to represent a tent, and the
straw on which my model had to lie. Mr. Frank Dicksee had
kindly furnished me with the armour, and the sword was copied from ,
an old state sword of one of the Edwards in the British
Museum. The descriptive text was taken from Wallon's excellent
life of " The Maid." My whole desire and purpose was to paint
a picture sober in tone, quiet in colour, and without " flash " or
pretension of any kind.

Through the slight opening in the tent creeps the early grey
of morning. It mingles its cold light with the warm effulgence
from the angel's presence, which again has overcome and turned to
naught the flickering lamp-light. All these effects had to be, and
were, carefully studied. The light was arranged on the armour in
the simplest and most sober manner, and its effect sketched most
diligently in the early morning hours. Some parts of it were re-
painted four or five times with this sole object in view. A
suggestion has been made that it is foolish to suppose that my
heroine or anyone else could sleep in armour. In reply to this I
have only to remark that if Joan of Arc's words, " Ld bu il n'y
avait pas de femmes, je dormais comme les autres ; mais vetw, et
armee," do not, to the full, justify my interpretation, I must
plead for poetic licence in the matter. It may possibly be to
the point and somewhat convincing, if I state, as a matter of

24 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

fact, that the three separate models who sat to me did so sleep.
Their difficulty, indeed, was to keep awake. Just as there is
nothing so embarrassing as to have advice offered at the beginning
of a work, so, at the end, there is nothing more helpful. In this
instance it was Mr. Waterhouse who kindly assisted me in this
manner. He prevented me from making the inside of the tent
too elaborate, as my intention led me to. He also suggested the
more silvery light round the angel's head. The angel itself was
commenced from a regular model, but was finished in a half-
hour's sitting from one of my children, and never afterwards re-
touched. All that is good in it was accomplished in that half-
hour.

My friend, Mrs. Moor, and others, gave me sittings for Joan;
but I was very anxious to finish it from a French girl. I tried
high and low to find one suitable, but without success. One day,
however, there was a ring at my studio door, and a French girl
came in. " Ah, mademoiselle," said I, " and how is it you heard
of me ? Who sent you ? " " No one sent me, sir, nor have I
ever sat to any artist before ; but happening to have my morn-
ings free up to twelve o'clock, I thought perhaps I might earn a
little money this way, and bought an Academy catalogue. Why
I came to you, sir, I know not, except that your name pleased
me." Here then, was my French girl, exactly suited to my re-
quirements. She might have dropped from the sky. She proved
herself an excellent and painstaking model. When she was
leaving me after her final sitting, I ventured to ask her how she
spent her afternoons. After considerable hesitation she said,
"Well, sir, my work is in Bond Street, and after 12 o'clock I am
a pedicure."

Of the " Bayswater Omnibus," liked by the artists, fallen upon
by the critics, and, of course, sketched in Punch, I have only this
to say. Far from trusting to chance sketches in moving 'buses — of
which, however, I did many — I induced the London General Omnibus
Co. kindly to lend me one of their vehicles. In and out of this my
models and I climbed, sketching and being sketched, to the great
amusement of the neighbours. For the City man I had my cousin,
Colonel Moutray Read; a friend, Miss L'Amy, represented the
lady with flowers on her lap ; my wife was the poor woman in
the corner ; the child on her lap was a policeman's baby ; the
child in blue, one of my own. The nurse and milliner were

FLORENCE.

A STUDY FOR A PICTURE.

.. . v •

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 25

both painted from the same little professional model. The great
difficulty in the composition of this picture, as any artist will
allow, lay in the management of the straight parallel lines of the
windows and floor. This was partly overcome by spreading the
light in a diagonal manner across it, by means of the newspaper,
flowers, etc. There was one really curious criticism in connection
with this work. Objection was made that there was too much
light on the nurse's knee, etc., and that due consideration was not
given to the figure entering the 'bus and so blocking up the
doorway. My rejoinder is simple. I studied this particular effect
most carefully from actual life. Moreover, a slight figure, such as
that represented, does not fit the doorway like a cork in the neck
of a bottle. There is ample room for the light to flood in all
round — as was proved to me when I painted the subject. A
humorous critic suggested that I should paint a row of feet or
toes on the floor to suggest the presence of people on the
hither side of the omnibus. Best of all, a writer in a Brussels
paper called me " le Pickwick de la Palette" The probability is
that he intended to say Dickens.

Owing to my wife's serious illness I was unable to exhibit
any work in 1896. This event, too, led to our migration to
Swanage, for, as we imagined, a short summer holiday. Its charm
was so great, however, that the month lengthened to six weeks, and
that period again to a year, and since then it has been more or
less our winter quarters. Indeed, when I think of the fret and fogs
of a London winter, I am almost inclined to cry, with the lazy
lotus eaters, "We will return no more."

In the next year I was represented only by " Patience," a
little work that was the outcome of a simple ailment which
necessitated the isolation of myself and one of the children. My
little fellow convalescent served as model.

"Christ and a Little Child" appeared in 1898, and was hung
over the President's picture, in the centre of the great room at
the Academy. It was an honourable position, but not too well
suited to the scheme of light and colour of the work. It was
not, therefore, until I saw it on the line at the Salon the next
year, that I could judge of its effect in an exhibition light.
Perhaps this is a fitting place to express my gratitude for the
courteous treatment afforded my work in Paris. In spite of my
being an Englishman, and my recognition as such abroad ; in spite
E

26 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

of my English sympathies in my choice of subjects, and in my
art leanings, I have, nevertheless, always met with the most
sympathetic treatment. I have, in fact, never once had to complain
of bad hanging, or even of a reversal of the light in which the
picture was painted. The only reproach with which I have been
met is that I invariably send them a second year's picture. As
the critics are equally kind to me, I have much to be thankful
for, which indeed I am.

But, to return to the picture. It is a large one, with life-size
figures, and was painted in the old Brewery Barn at Swanage.
This building, which has since been demolished, was then in a
semi-decayed condition, and subject to inundations. I discovered
this to my cost when one morning, after heavy rain, I found all my
studio properties floating about in a foot or so of water. When,
however, the floor was cemented and a barrier 2 ft. high built in
the doorway, it proved to be one of the most entrancing studios
any artist could desire. The worst of it was, that one worked in
it as in a fool's paradise. For, in the cool and silvery light,
with its soft shadows and wonderful shell-like half-tones, it had
that quality of atmosphere which made the picture and model,
the draperies, and the green vine leaves that crept about the walls
— everything, in fact, that it contained — look too well ! It was a
place for studies, for colour impressions, and for the training of
the eye, rather than for downright and final painting on the
canvas. To be seen to advantage the picture should have been
viewed in that old barn, with its high vaulted roof and numberless
small windows, by which, at every conceivable angle, the light
filtered in through grimy cobwebs and the dust of ages.

It was not surprising that it lost something of its tone and
mystery when transplanted to the garish light of a modern
exhibition. I was, nevertheless, well pleased with its reception
both here and in Paris. In softness of outline and freedom of
handling and execution, I consider it a great advance on anything
I had accomplished up to that time. The fishermen of Swanage
were kind enough to help me considerably by sitting to me. From
them, my own little boy, the rector's daughter, and old Haigi
Abdurehman — one of the most interesting models I ever met — I
painted my picture.

I feel compelled to digress here to relate one story of the latter
— who was an Arab — out of the thousand and one he was always telling

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 27

me : — " It was on the mountain pass, leading into the beautiful Swat
Valley on the borders of Cashmere. My uncle and I were trudging
along in front of the little caravan, in the misty morning light,
when I perceived, a little in front of me, a young man who was
not one of us, and whom I had not seen before. He was of
beautiful proportions and of noble bearing, and a feeling of awe
came over me. I turned to my uncle and said, ' Who is this
young man who walks beside us, and whose face I cannot see ? '
' I see no man,' said he, and as I turned, the figure had vanished !
' Boy,' said my uncle, ' have I not told thee before that thou
shouldst never turn away from an angel ; thou shouldst have
fixed thine eyes upon him ; he might then have turned and looked
upon thee.' And — to think," added the old man, " that I might
have seen the face of an angel ! " and as he spoke I saw the
tears running down his cheeks, so real did the vision still appear
to him.

On the completion of the picture I thought I could not do
less than invite all Swanage to see it. And over that barrier in
the doorway all Swanage came. Some leaping, some scrambling,
others again chivalrously helped by their squires, to the number
of about six hundred — men, women, and children. . It was a great
pleasure to me to witness the enjoyment of many a one who had
had few or no opportunities of seeing pictures. There was also
something extremely touching in witnessing the awe of some of
the spectators as they came into the building. The silence was
broken only by my own voice, as I tried to explain to each new
group of arrivals the subject of the picture and my aims in
painting it.

For the " Merchantman Seeking Goodly Pearls," the property
of Mr. W. H. Bleckley, I had again a very interesting model,
an ex-artilleryman who then served as road-scraper and
dustman. He had one of the finest heads I have ever
seen, and owing to his exposure to sun and weather, his
colour was utterly different to that of the ordinary studio
model. As he stood dressed in a saffron robe (from Beyrout) and
a rich Eastern turban, against a background to represent a room
in a caravanserai, he looked, indeed, the very character for which
he was posed.

" An Offering "—or " Mary of Bethany " as I called it in the
catalogue — appeared in the same year. Both pictures were suited

28 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

to the Academy light, and looked, I think, quite as well as in the
studio. Both were painted at home. The former has since been
seen at one of those interesting exhibitions arranged by Mr.
Temple at the Guildhall.

" A Dinner of Herbs " and " Britannia " were also painted in
my studio. In the latter, which was executed during the height
of the Boer war, it will readily be seen that the kind friend
who helped me some years before with my "Cordelia" again
came to my assistance. There was but one other model, and
my visits to the " Zoo " in connection with it convinced me that
lions do not like artists.

As had happened before, and will, I suppose, happen again, I
did not improve this picture on varnishing day. I have sadly
come to the conclusion that when a picture is ill hung the best
course is to leave it severely alone.

My next two Academy pictures, " The King's Daughter " and
" Griselda," were painted in Swanage. The first, a group of my
three daughters in Eastern costume, at the old Rectory tithe
barn, and the second in a new little wooden structure, very like
a square, green bonnet box, covered with a trellis of creeping
roses in the summer. This garden-studio is, nevertheless, charming
for light, while from it there is a delightful view of the quaint
old town and glorious bay of Swanage.

I have now alluded to the most important of my Academy
pictures. To the Institute of Painters in Oil, of which society
I was elected a member in 1895, I sent " Poor Bulgaria."
Subsequently this picture was sold to a Russian by Messrs.
Goupil, and I was told that on the spur of the moment, to avoid
wounding the purchaser's susceptibilities, the title was changed to
an " Eastern Maiden." " Baby Bedouin " was painted not in the
desert of the Sahara but in my own glass-house, from one of
my own little girls. She had wound a new bath towel round
her and come in to show herself off, and so suggested the
subject.

In 1897 I exhibited, among other things, the fanciful study,
" Lesbia's Sparrow," with surroundings of Eastern, principally
Persian, stuffs. The latter in such a juxtaposition always seem
preferable to me to all others, as they harmonise so well with
the delicate flesh tones. In the following year I sent " Pamela's .
Birthday." In 1899 I was represented by the portrait of

ROSALIND, ONE OF THE ARTIST'S CHILDREN.

.H35K1UHO ?'T?!THA 3HT HO U/O XJ/.

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, 29

Mrs. Tristam, and " Pixies " and " A Kelpie." The last-named are
both small pictures, and were painted entirely out of doors. The
scene represented is one of the pools of the Keckbeck, near
Bolton Abbey. Whilst the children disported themselves in the
cooling stream I sat on a boulder stone and painted. The plan
of campaign on these occasions was to set a sentry at the
entrance to the gorge whose duty it was, whilst bathing was in
progress, to persuade any chance pedestrian to go by the upper
path. Once only did this device miss fire, when two American
ladies, in search of the picturesque, insisted that the lower path
was the one they had come to see. On they came — nor were
they disappointed. " Fairies ! " they cried ; " Mermaids ! " But
there was no response ; for by this time the poor children had
buried themselves up to their necks in the deepest pool, and
from thence glared upon the intruders, like Dante's heads in the
frozen lake.

In the same year that " Britannia " was shown at the Royal
Academy, " Dreams on the Veldt " was hung at the Institute.
The subject was partly suggested by the following incident related
by Lord Roberts at the assault on the Sikandarbagh at Lucknow:
— " A drummer of the 93rd must have been one of the first to
pass that grim boundary between life and death ; for when I got
in I found him just inside the breach, lying on his back quite
dead — a pretty, innocent-looking, fair-haired lad, not more than
fourteen years of age."

It was in this year, too, that I painted, and presented to the
" Artists' War Fund," my picture " Plantagenet," so called from
the piece of yellow broom which a little girl is stretching up to
fasten in her father's helmet as her favor. The picture, in which
the figures are life-size and half length, was exhibited, with the
others contributed to the Fund, at the Guildhall.

My last exhibit at the Institute was in 1902. "A Drummer
of the Peninsular War " is a life-sized figure, which was painted
in the Rectory barn at Swanage. It was purchased the next
year, when it was exhibited in the " Salon," by M. de Waubert
de Genlis. With the French criticism, " Ce n'est pas un portrait,
c'est un type" I have no cause to quarrel.

********

And here, with the British drum, and with the echo of its
stirring rattle still in our ears, I may fitly close. This is not,

30 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

like many autobiographies, a detailed account of everything and
everybody except the subject of it himself; nor is it even a history,
in any full sense, of the various circumstances of his own life.
All that it claims to be is a sketch, and nothing more, of that
which he holds most dear in that life — his work. Work, thank
God, which is still, happily, in progress, and which he finds
daily more absorbing and more delightful.

STUDY FOR "THH FAIR FLAGMAKER.

FROM MISS BERTHA CREIGHTON.

MIAH 3HT" HO4 .Yc,

AHTHHfl KKIW

II.

TECHNICAL NOTES.

H

OW often is it the case that the artist has
to deplore the loss of his first impression —
or inspiration. He may even have forgotten
the very existence of that first tiny pencil sketch,
in which the virgin thought had birth. As a rule,
in art, second thoughts are not best, for art depends
so much upon instinct ; and instinct, to be true,
must be sudden, spontaneous, and untrammelled
by thoughts as to the " how " and the " wherefore."
It is absolutely necessary, if the idea for a
subject is to be brought to a successful issue, that
it should be one that completely commends itself to
the mind of the artist ; that it should be one that fills him
with a desire to paint ; one that he loves, and upon which he
longs to be at work. If this be the case, its development will be
no slavish task, but a genuine labour of love, on which time and
patience will cheerfully be expended : the many hindrances and
difficulties which will inevitably be met, will but serve as pleasant
incentives to stronger effort.

It is an old saying that the paints on the palette should be
mixed with " brains," but I would add they should also be mixed
with love. Without this a painter's work will be but a display, an
academic tour de force — and though the colour may be attractive,
the execution faultless, or even quite alarmingly clever, the
spectator will be left unmoved.

I personally have never composed or painted my pictures
according to any set rule or canon of composition. What looks
right is right ; this is my simple article of faith — in art. The
simplest things are ever the best. If there be a crank, or knot,
in the composition, or strident note in the colour, I try some
other line, some sweeter harmony.

32 TECHNICAL NOTES.

In composition, however, there are two points to be kept in
mind. Firstly, that the simple unity of shadow must be preserved,
its forms well weighed and considered, as so many dark continents
upon the map of your picture. Secondly, that the quality and
colour of the light must penetrate all things, even the reflections
and deepest shadows, lighting them up with a sullen glow, as the
fire in a leopard's eye.

In this connection I would draw attention to Reynolds' practice
of making pencil sketches, in which he indicates the position and
form of the shadows and masses of light, from the works of the
great Dutch, Italian, and Spanish masters. By means of these
mere blots of light and shade, untrammelled with any rules of
composition, his mind assimilated and made its own much of the
hidden lore of these masterpieces.

Again, I cannot help thinking, much time would be saved if an
artist were to look his subject " full in the face," close his mental
eyes upon it, and whilst the impression is still vivid make for its
interpretation.

The next step is to bend Nature, stubborn Nature, to your will.
I refer, of course, to forms, colours, and lines of composition — not to
the immutable laws of Nature. To illustrate my point, I would
mention an incident related to me by the late Sir Frederick-
Burton. In one of his pictures a girl was spreading her delicate
fingers over the strings of a lute. The position he had chosen
seemed to him so apt and beautiful, that he was determined to
adhere to it, provided he could find a model who could adopt it.
One after another tried, and failed ; and he was about to give it
up in despair, when a new model came in, took the lute in her
hand, and, almost unbidden, assumed the very position he had so
happily conceived.

So much in Nature is changeable and evanescent in character
that it is absolutely necessary that the artist should be quick and
ready if he wishes to record it in his work. Should the opportunity
of the moment not be seized it will probably pass for ever. In a
landscape everything is continuously changing; every minute there
is a different effect of light and shade : the clouds melt into new
forms, and the colour of the whole is kaleidoscopic in its variety.

In the studio, too, though of course in a minor degree, the
quality and direction of the light is ever changing ; the position
of the model, or the draperies, is ever altering.

FIRST SKETCH FOR "THE FAIR FLAGMAKER."

HI A

NO*

••»•

TECHNICAL NOTES. 33

There is but a moment when everything is at its best; and
the happy method is the one which enables the artist to seize,
with accuracy and promptitude, the facts set before him.

It is evident that to accomplish this, the memory, as well as
the eye, must be trained and improved by practice. For this
purpose an excellent plan was recommended by Bonnat and other
Frenchmen. It was to repeat from memory the next day, or even
a week afterwards, the drawing one had made from the model. If
the original was done with this end in view, it was astonishing
how closely one could come to it in the repeated drawing. The
Japanese method is also to be commended, of looking very intently
at an object, and then going right away from it, and drawing and
colouring it from memory. Michael Angelo, too, tells us* how, as
a boy, he went to the market place, sketched a fish, and after-
wards painted from memory the colours of the bright and glittering
scales. Turner's plan was similar. Whilst his fellow students
busily sketched a pond, he but threw stones into it ; watched the
widening circles, as they met and intersected each other — saw and
learned it all. Not only the effects, but their causes. He stored
them away in his wondrous memory, and, afterwards, like the
merchantman, brought forth treasures, new and old, to the delight
and astonishment of the world.

There is yet another aid to memory, a kind of last resource,
which, too, was largely practised by Turner. That is, of jotting
down notes in writing of objects seen ; of their colour and
hue, whether hot, or cool and grey ; of form and outline, whether
hard or melting — lost or found.

In these ways much may be done, and no trouble should be
too great if it assists the memory in the task that is set before
it. In effect, every touch, or brushmark, on the canvas, even
with a model before one, is, scientifically speaking, an effort of
memory.

I have said that it is well to keep to one's first inspiration,
and never to lose sight of that first effort.

On the other hand there is, of course, no sacrifice, however
great, that any artist worthy of the name would not make, if a
more excellent way should present itself of carrying out more
fully the motive or original intention of his work. It is only
against that feverish passion for change which too often comes

• Vasari.
F

34 TECHNICAL NOTES.

over one just at that most inconvenient of all times, when the
picture is approaching completion, that I make my protest.

There is yet another occasion when it is well to be wary. It
sometimes comes at the beginning, more often in the middle,
too rarely, alas ! at the end of our work. It is the time when
we seem to be nearer our ideal than at any other moment ;
when we feel as though Heaven's doors were opened, if only a
little ; as if for that brief space, if never again, the full light
streamed upon our poor ideal, illumined it, and revealed it fully
to us. Then it is that we seize our brushes, and paint as, it
seems to us, we have never painted before. But, as we paint,
perchance, the vision fades. Then it is time to stay our hand;
to leave the canvas thus unfinished, suggestive. It is far better
so than with a gloss of false finish upon it.

In such a spirit, I conceive, did Tintoret leave incomplete
that Divine head, bowed upon the cross, veiled in dim luminous
shadow, one of the noblest efforts of that stupendous painter's art.

When is a picture finished ? In a sense it is never finished,
for it never satisfies the sincere artist. In another sense it is
finished when nothing more can be done to it without destroying
its freshness.

" Finish " is, indeed, the artist's bugbear. To finish alike
every part of a picture is a sin against good painting. I am not
pleading for slovenliness, but its very reverse.

Nothing is ever insignificant or trivial. , The very portions of
our pictures which seem to the outsiders of little consequence
may in their several ways be most important. That crumbling
wall with a hole in it; indistinct, shadowy, and soft-edged. It
has been painted and repainted, for on it seemed to depend much
of the tone of the rest of the picture. That one hard, trenchant
line, the backbone, as it were, of the composition ; without which
it would lose half its meaning. Or perhaps it may be some mere
wisp of straw ; a thread ; a tendril of the vine ; a spot of colour.
Each has its little tongue, and as our work approaches comple-
tion, it is astonishing how any false note clangs out and asserts
itself ; cries aloud, as it were, to be tuned into harmony with
the rest.

Another point, too often lost sight of, is the need to sustain
in the final stages of a picture the freshness and crispness of
touch with which it began its existence. I consider that the

TECHNICAL NOTES. 35

more gaily and happily an artist can approach the completion of
his work the better he will avoid the dry and uninteresting ap-
pearance with which some works are blighted, as with a palsy,
before they receive their final touches.

As it is just possible that someone who has troubled to
follow me thus far may like to know my method of procedure,
I will state it as briefly as I can.

It is this : a pencil sketch ; a rough sketch in charcoal on
the full-sized canvas ; a rubbing in of colour tones ; and, if the
composition and balance of the figures please me, a frame forth-
with. Then, and not until then, models and costumes. Care
must be taken in these early stages not to destroy the
surface of the canvas, nor to paint with pigments which dry but
slowly. The risk of cracking can be almost entirely avoided by
using the same medium, whatever it be, from commencement to
finish.

When selecting the colour for the costumes, I find it a good
plan to spread out all the coloured stuffs on the studio floor.
There, as on some great palette, or flower bed, one can shuffle
them about and arrange them to one's satisfaction.

The choice of models is a far more difficult and delicate
matter. Happy the man who can call upon the kind offices of
his friends for some of his heads or hands ! Nevertheless the
regular models are not to be dispensed with. For my own part,
I have always found them most painstaking and helpful ; and,
were this the place, I should have much to say in their favour.

Elaborate studies, except for blocking out and arranging the
composition, seem premature at the commencement of a work.
It is when it approaches completion that such studies are of
most service, and, even then, only when some difficult point has
been reached. A point where an absolute knowledge of the part
is essential, and where the object can neither be committed to
memory, nor adequately treated by being painted, in the usual
way, straight on to the canvas.

The simplest methods must always be the best and safest.
A well-prepared canvas or panel, securely protected at the back
from damp — a method Van Eyck understood so well, and to which,
in part, his panels owe their extraordinary measure of permanency
— permanent colours, well ground, so as to prevent separation,
desiccation, and cracking ; the habit of never painting on half-dry

36 TECHNICAL NOTES.

under-paintings ; and, above all, of never neglecting the wholesome
advice to use the same medium, whatever it be, throughout the
work. These simple rules, if attended to, will save many dis-
appointments, and, if the picture be worth preserving, insure its
permanency. Of all the colours on the palette I consider white
the most important. Upon it we depend for light ; without it
our pictures would be lifeless, soulless. Whether employed as a
lamp, to shine through other colours, or in mixture and contact
with them, it is still to the white that we look for light. Upon
it also much of the solidity, much of the technique, brush work,
and handling depends. Yet, strange as it may appear, it is of
all colours the most difficult to procure in such a state as to
leave the brush freely, and exhibit that crispness of touch that is
so essential to its proper use. White lead and zinc white are
the only whites known to the artist. The first is infinitely
preferable as far as light-giving qualities are concerned; but it
requires to be protected by varnish or superimposed colour. The
latter serves best for delicate passages, and especially in those
cases in which admixture with pigments of doubtful permanency
becomes necessary. It is well, however, to remember that zinc
white has one drawback. , It does not combine so well with
oil, and is most apt to dry up and scale off in time, if proper
precautions, such as the intermixture with it of varnish, are not
taken. Oil is not sufficient, and turpentine is still worse.
Turpentine, indeed, is under a cloud just now, and many cracked
canvases are pointed to as the result of its too free use. For
medium or vehicle I suggest (i) poppy oil only, (2) poppy oil and
copal, thinned when necessary with petroleum ; (3) poppy oil and
amber, for rich effects of colour. The following is, I think, a
safe palette; and it is thus that, for convenience, I arrange the
colours : — Genuine ultramarine, ultramarine ash, cobalt, ivory
black, burnt sienna, rose madder, Venetian red, Chinese
vermilion, flake white, yellow ochre, golden ochre, raw sienna,
oxide of chromium (opaque), emerald oxide of chromium (viridian),
and, sparingly, cadmium (orange). With these colours, I believe
the finest pictures that ever were conceived could have been
painted. I would suggest a familiarity with them, rather than
be for ever experimenting with new ones.

Even where pigments are concerned there are vulgar prejudices,
and at one time I had such a prejudice against the use of black.

LT.-COL. W. L. HUTCHINSON, R.A.

inrmia ..i :/,

TECHNICAL NOTES. 37

For years it never appeared on my palette, and, to my sorrow,
vandyke brown took its place. But now I recognise that black
is a highly respectable pigment. With this one proviso, however,
that it should not be used as black, but rather as a delicate
member of the family of greys, of which ultramarine ash is such
a shining and distinguished light. There is still another cautionary
word. Be wary of temporary and so-called harmless varnishes.
Their sudden drying qualities are suspicious ; and dark streaks
and smudges are apt to appear years afterwards where they have
been left unremoved.

I have often pondered on Millais' remark, that the work of
the old masters owed much of their beauty to their age and to
the darkening varnish. Surely this must have been said partly
in sport, and could only, I think, apply when the picture in point
was originally too cold in colour, and in those rare instances
where a great master's work was purposely painted in strong,
crude colours, and intended to glow out from some murky corner
of a church. The warm tones of the superimposed darkening
varnish might then be an improvement when such a picture was
dragged from its original position ; but, as a rule, I think Dame
Nature would not reverse all her methods even to enhance the
fame of a Titian or a Morone. Nor are modern pictures any
encouragement to this theory. They, like the works of the
masters, are some of them in good preservation ; others again,
after but a few short years' trial, are heavy and leaden in hue,
and mere shadows of their former selves.

It is interesting to know from Reynolds' note book, that
his first paintings were always in Cologne earth and white, the
final paintings being more or less transparent. With reference
to his work, I hold that its greater or less stability depended
far more upon the vehicles that he used than upon the actual
pigments. The former were often changed just as his fancy
led him.

Old Webster, whose pictures have the great merit of stability,
and of whom, as a youth, I saw a good deal at Cranbrook, told
me that previous to a certain date, some forty years before I knew
him, all his pictures had suffered great deterioration. This he
ascribed to the use of turpentine, while his subsequent practice
of using nothing but oil with a few drops of amber varnish had
been entirely successful. His method was to begin his flesh tones

38 TECHNICAL NOTES.

with Venetian red, French ultramarine, and white, and finish with
the warmer and more transparent colours.

W. J. Miiller practised a method which is of great interest.
It enabled him to paint his pictures, even those on a large
scale, at once ; a truly wonderful feat when the result was as fine
as " The Chess Players." This does not mean that they were actually
finished in one sitting. By means of a wet blanket placed over the
picture, the surface was artificially kept soft and wet, and the dry-
ing of the colours was retarded until the next day, or even for two or
three days, without any injury to the painting. Pictures so painted
have proved to be exceedingly permanent. An experiment
which I made some years ago of painting one head in the opaque
manner, and another transparently in the same picture (a copy of
Reynolds' Angels' Heads) seems to point to the fact that the
received opinion as to the superior permanency of the " solid "
method is hardly borne out by facts. In this case, at any rate, the
transparently painted head is certainly the fresher of the two. But
on this point I will not dogmatise. It cannot, however, be too
often reiterated that, unless they are protected, our climate, like
that of the Netherlands, will soon work havoc with our pictures.
Millais' other dictum, therefore, that without medium there is no
good painting, is a sound one ; and his practice, in this particular,
may be the cause of his own pictures having preserved their
splendid lustre so well.

I have but one further suggestion to offer. It is that every
artist should make a note at the back of his • canvas or panel
as to the pigments and vehicle with which he has painted his
picture ; this may tend to its preservation, and with the added date
be invaluable to the future student of such matters. I find, too,
that it is of interest to the owner.

39

III.

SOME REMARKS ON THE PAINTING
, , . OF THE NUDE, v • * -.;..;;: M/

THE following remarks are by no means intended as an apology
for painting the nude, for, indeed, no such apology is necessary.
Rather it is to draw attention to the work which influenced
me, formed my taste, and led me to choose such subjects for my
brush and pencil. I am well aware of the diverse opinions which
exist, not only among the outside public, but among artists them-
selves, as to the treatment of the nude. Nor could I hope by
any words of mine to reconcile or harmonise those opinions.
Suffice it to say that, whereas on the Continent the artist pleads
for, and actually obtains, the sanction of public opinion for a
freedom which verges at times on licence ; in our own country
by common consent, even of the artist himself, there is a greater
reticence, a higher moral atmosphere, a nobler taste, a more refined
sense of beauty. Without this latter quality, art itself, however
astonishing in execution and glamour it may be, must sooner or later
inevitably fall into decay, and cease to be.

As a child, Giorgione was my favourite painter, and when as
a young, new-fledged painter I made my first serious attempt
at a picture with " Laodamia," it was still to Venice and the
Venetians that I turned for inspiration and support.

I had long thought of such a picture, and planned how it
should be approached. It was not my French art training that
turned my thoughts in this direction, but our own Milton, great
painter that he was, who first inflamed me with a desire to
attempt such subjects as " Laodamia," " Danaids," and " Truth."
The following incident, which, for lack of a better word, I must
call a happy chance, also made a strong impression upon me.

It was on the occasion of my revisiting Harrow, and on the
banks of " Ducker," that the scales first fell from my eyes. I

40 THE PAINTING OF THE NUDE.

beheld a vision of beauty, a form, Greek in its purity, and fine
as any production of chisel ; not one of those overgrown modern
athletes, a mere bundle of muscles, but a very Mercury, of perfect
mould and shape. A modest English boy, of the Saxon type ;
altogether unconscious of his beauty, his crisp, short hair glisten-
ing in the sunny midday light — himself the product of the
football and cricket field — and possibly of many generations of
such healthy and happy training.

In him it was, then, that I saw the true loveliness of the
human form, " divine " in its origin — marred, alas ! too often, by
the clay of its baser nature — and it is to that figure, bathed in
sunshine, that I turn, in thought, when I attempt to paint
such subjects.

Putting technicalities for the present on one side, the
question I was ever asking myself was : How are such
subjects to be approached ? Obviously it was beauty that
was to be the aim ; self-consciousness and coquetry to be
unknown and unknowable. Nor would it be- by servile imitation
of classic forms, or the works of the old masters, or even of Nature
herself, except in rare instances, that one could hope to attain
any true excellence. But rather by working on the same lines
with the same aspirations ; the same high sense of purity in line,
in form and colour, and with the same limitations as the masters
in former times ; and with Nature, our mistress, ever at hand
for reference, if not for actual and slavish imitation. So should
one's work breathe purity. Its tendency should be to take one
to that garden where Milton painted, as on a living canvas,
Eve, walking in her innocency: —

" Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye ;
In every gesture dignity and love.

Eve separate he spies

Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood,
Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round
About her glow'd ; oft stooping to support
Each flower of tender stalk, whose head, though gay,
Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold,
Hung drooping unsustained : them she upstays
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while
Herself, though fairest unsupported flower ;
From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh."

Paradise Lost, Book IX.

HILDA DE ANGELIS.

,Y

•4T

THE PAINTING OF THE NUDE. 41

Or to that other garden where Nausicaa, almost equally pure
and innocent, disported herself with her peerless maidens. Or, to
come down quite to our own times, and to a modern of the
moderns, George Macdonald, to that lovely scene in which old
Elspeth sees the naked child appear in floods of light in the
cottage doorway, his arms outspread, and at first mistakes him for
the Christ Child. As to the works of painters and sculptors of
old, I would ask, Who shall be found capable of adequately
describing their perfections ? Of the " Victory," or Venus of Milo,
in the Louvre, or of those equally chaste and delicate figures in
our own Museum, the creations of unknown artists centuries ago,
childlike in their simplicity, marvellous in their artistic savour — the
Tanagra figures ? To see them is to love them, to desire to
possess them ; it is indeed scarcely possible even to look at them
without an answering smile, so living and lovely do they appear.
True Art is ever thus; lovely after the lapse of ages, beloved,
immortal in its essence. Of Titian's " Sleeping Venus," of Tintoret's
" Ariadne," and even of " La Source," by Ingres, the same might be
said, and in such a spirit as theirs would one wish to paint.

It comes, then, to this: that the study of the human figure—
either in sculpture, or in such paintings as resemble sculpture in
their purity — is, as Flaxman and Etty, and many others, have
well said, an ennobling and an elevating study; a study not only
of the most beautiful thing in Nature, but of God's last created
work. The plea that it is sometimes approached from a lower
platform, and with baser motives, is, surely, no reason for ceasing so
to study it. That would be to leave the field in the possession of
the enemy.* Even where beauty is not the primary object, who
could doubt the entire sincerity of such a man as Albert Diirer,
even though, in his studies of the nude, he adopted absolutely
unconventional and even ordinary types of humanity?

In Rubens' work, too, though all is redundant, fleshy, and robust,
there is still far less actual realism than people give him credit for ;

* There is yet another public whose education in such matters is incomplete. It is from
them that one sometimes receives strange missives, when it is necessary to possess one's soul in
patience, and hope for them a better enlightenment and a juster discrimination. It was, i
remember, in the course of a single week that I received two heavily marked newspapers, both
containing able addresses by ministers of religion, both dealing with my picture of "Truth." One
enlarged upon it as a beautiful allegory or parable; the other, no doubt an equally estimable
man, held diametrically opposite views, held up the picture and the unlucky artist to the severest
scorn and reprobation. I could only comfort myself with the reflection that were I inclined to
be unduly uplifted by the first, I need not, on the other hand, be utterly cast down by the
other; remembering the old Roman adage, "Quot homint$, M stntentia,"

G

42 THE PAINTING OF THE NUDE.

and, though I admit his figures are heavy and Flemish, they have,
nevertheless, one great quality — they form great masses of sunny
light in gorgeous and highly decorative compositions. As such,
rather than as human figures, did they present themselves to the
eyes and imagination of the great painter, and commend themselves
to his patrons, the burghers and burgomasters of his time.

To the Italians, living in warmer climes and under sunnier
skies, the quiet beauty of the evening and morning hour were
dear, and at such times, and under such favourable conditions of
light and colour, did they pursue their studies and paint their
pictures. Much of their great beauty and rare qualities are due,
no doubt, to this particular cause; and in Titian, Giorgione, and
Tintoret they reach their highest point of excellence.

In the first two a golden and glowing splendour is mated to
all that is richest and most seductive in the modelling of the
figure ; whilst in the latter, in some respects the greatest of the
three, there is more reticence ; the forms are more chaste, the
modelling broader and simpler; the colour more generalised in its
neutral silvery warmth ; the whole suggesting the cool " incense-
breathing morn " rather than the evening hour.

To that great French school headed by Watteau, whose aims
are so entirely different from our own, I can but make passing
allusion. With regard to this English school of ours, and to our
own greatest Reynolds, I am of opinion that he painted the nude
rather for the sake of colour than of form, and I think it is
matter for regret that his portraits left him so little time to
bestow upon ideal work of this kind. Whilst in Etty I think
we have a great student rather than a great painter of the nude.

It is not until we come quite down to our own times that
we find in Leighton, in Alma-Tadema, in Burne-Jones, in Albert
Moore, and notably in our veteran Watts, the highest examples
of what one might well call the ideal in the rendering of all
that is noblest and best in this difficult branch of art. Nor
should a reference to that beautiful picture by Fred. Walker of
boys bathing be omitted. Lovely and joyous colour is wedded
in it to all that is finest and best in taste and drawing. It is,
indeed, a picture " lovely and of good report," wholesome and
satisfying in its entirety; an impression of happy, innocent life
and joyous freedom — a picture to be enjoyed and never forgotten.

HEAD OF AN ARAB.

A STUDY.

43

IV

NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

THE following pictures might have been classified in this book
into separate periods, styles, or subjects. I have preferred to
adopt the last-mentioned method, irrespective of the dates
at which the pictures were actually painted.

Commencing with historical, or quasi-historical, subjects, more or
less in chronological sequence, religious or devotional pictures follow,
and finally more fanciful subjects, classical or otherwise.

Lear and Cordelia. — Painted in 1880. Exhibited at GoupiPs
Gallery; at the Guildhall, London, in 1897 (Exhibition of Pictures
of the Victorian Era). Presented by Col. Harding to the Leeds
City Art Gallery. Size, 40 in. x 52 in.

In the prison house, his feet fast bound in irons, the aged king— -that
" foolish fond old man " — at last finds rest. Despair and madness
have given place to infinite love and tenderness for that noble creature,
flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, whom he had disinherited and
dishonoured. Yet it is she who prays him to " hold his hand in
benediction" over her, whose tender fingers touch his wrinkled and
trembling hand, whose head rests lovingly and confidently in his lap,
whose lips are moving in prayer for him who had so cruelly

wronged her.

For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down,
Myself could else outfrown false fortune's frown.

King Lear, Act v., Scene 3.

The incident depicted is not represented in the performance of
the play. It occurs between Scenes 3 and 4 of the last act.

*«* Colour Note.— Cordelia's dress is dark blue, inwrought with gold and silver and
divers colours ; Lear's is a sober amber brown, under which there is a show of kingly
robes. The background was painted in old St. Bartholomew's Church, in the City of
London.

44 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

Griselda.—" Flower of Wifely Patience." Painted in 1903. Ex-
hibited at the Royal Academy the same year, and at the St.
Louis International Exhibition in 1904. Size, 54 in. x 32 in.

My lord, ye wote that in my father's place
Ye did me stripe out of my poor vvede
And richly ye clad me of your grace.
To you brought I nought elles out of drede
But faith and nakedness and maidenhead ;
And here your clothing I again restore,
And eke your wedding ring for evermore.

Chaucer.

Griselda stands beside her gilded marriage-chest, into which she
places her rich garments. She makes but that one poor request
that she should be allowed to keep the smock she came in from
her father's cottage. She looks pleadingly, not reproachfully, at her
husband, who is forced, hard man though he be, to turn and fly
from her sweet presence lest he should be betrayed into unmanly
tears.

"That smok," quod he, "that thou hast on thy bake,
Let it be still, and bare it forth wid thee."

With all her self-abasement and humility, she has through it all,
especially in Chaucer's version, that native nobility and self-restraint
which is often so strikingly apparent in the peasant nature. Nor is
she one of those spiritless or feeble natures who yield because they
are feeble. She was strong in her determination to keep to her
plighted troth, to her promise of obedience, absolutely in word and
deed, even in thought, for, even in this cruel trial she is able to

say: —

But certes lord

it shall not be

That ever in word or werke I shall repent
That I you gave min herte in hole intent.

Canterbury Tales, pp. 239 and 240.

On the ground is a little silver casket, into which she is about
to drop her most precious possession — her wedding ring. Still she
clings to it, though she has transferred it from her left to her right
hand ; and round that casket lies a broken ivy spray, fit emblem
of her state. Special attention is called to the coronet, which in
those days was not made according to the rank or status, but
according to the purse or fancy of the wearer.

*#* Colour Note.— A grey pearl in a setting of Limoges enamel. Thus might the
colour of this picture be described— a very difficult one to reproduce.

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 45

The Maid of Orleans.

"Affirmant que Dieu conduisait 1'entreprise. Si je n'en etais sure, disait-
elle, j'aimerais mieux garder les brebis que de m'exposer a tant de perils."

Walhn.

Painted in 1880. Exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1881.
In the possession of James Kenyon, Esq. Size, 64 in. x 44 in.

There has been an alarm in the camp and a rally to the tent of
the maid, who, ever reliant and calm, points upwards with one
hand. With the other she presses to her breast the white Standard
of Purity and Patriotism, with which she was wont to lead her
knights and men-at-arms into the thickest of the fray — and to
victory.

%* Colour Note. — The colour is rich and low in tone ; the armour shines out against
the warm red lining of the tent and the embrowned shadows within it. The outside of
the silken tent is sapphire-blue. The petticoat, a peasant's garment, kindly procured
for me by Jules Breton, is glowing red.

Nelson's First Farewell, or Thirty Years before Trafalgar.-

Painted in 1883. Exhibited the same year at the Royal
Academy. Size, 61 in. x 40 in.

In one of the rooms at the Rectory, Burnham Thorpe, young Nelson
bids his Grannie farewell. It was she who had trained him, and whom
he loved as a mother. To her he made his first recorded speech,
" What is fear, Grannie ? " She probably had a truer vision of her
little hero's capabilities than his uncle Captain Suckling. He, on
seeing the delicate boy, suggested, as all the world knows, that the
best thing that could happen to him would be that a cannon ball
should take off his head, and so " provide for poor Horatio ! "

%* Colour Note. — This is a very simple scheme of colour. Blue in the half tones is
always pleasing and in its proper place; whilst the rich brown tones flecked with grey,
in the old lady's brocaded dress, help to redeem the picture from coldness and
monotony.

Flora Macdonald's Farewell to Prince Charlie. — Painted 1891.
Exhibited the same year at the Royal Academy. Size, 63 in. x
48 in. In the possession of Messrs. Cassell & Company, Limited.

Will ye no come back again,
Better lo'ed ye cannot be.

Lady Nairiie.

Bonnie Prince Charlie, the yellow-haired laddie, now deserted and
an outlaw, bows low to kiss the hand of his fair protectress. Without

46 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

her aid it is certain he never could have got safely out of the country.
Standing in her well-worn green riding habit, her head also bowed,
and looking pityingly at him, Flora Macdonald possibly yet murmurs
words of hope and loyalty. The squalid surroundings of a Highland
cottage inn, or " shanty," are such as described by herself in her
" Recollections," and make a fit background for the final scene of
a lost cause. The dog has been sent in advance to sniff out spies ;
and there is the one faithful body servant, with averted eyes, holding
open the rickety door for his master to pass out.

Wellington's First Encounter with the French. — Painted in
1889. Exhibited the same year at the Royal Academy. Size,
57 in. x 35 in. In the possession of T. D. Galpin, Esq.

Armed with a letter of introduction from his mother, the Countess
of Mornington, and fresh from his journey, young Arthur Wellesley
makes his first appearance at old Pignerol's Military Academy at
Angers. The old man — not a bad type of a fine-tempered French-
man of the Ancien Regime, in his uniform and white gaiters — letter
in hand, scans his new pupil with curious but not disapproving look.
Nor does he seem to have the same distrust of " perfidious Albion "
as some of the smaller fry, who are evidently resolved on " taking a
rise " out of the young Englishman as soon as their master's back
is turned. In the background are maps of England, France, and
Corsica, whilst crossed swords indicate the coming struggle. In this
same year Napoleon entered St. Cyr. Harrow boys may recognise
this room as their old fourth-form room. It was not adopted as a
background until I had ascertained from the Mayor of Angers that
Pignerol's schoolhouse had been transformed into a " Caserne."

Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle. — Painted in 1889. Exhibited at
the Royal Academy in the same year. Size, 32 in. x 42 in.
In the possession of Messrs. Cassell & Company, Limited.

Painted at the time of the great agitation for Home Rule in Ireland,
it formed the painter's appeal for the unity of the sister kingdoms.
It obtained great popularity in its reproduction in colours with
Messrs. Cassell's "Yule-Tide."

*#* Colour Note. — The centre figure is in an apricot-coloured robe ; that on the
right is in an ancient Irish deep blue embroidered robe ; whilst the third figure, with
reddish golden hair and light blue eyes, holds the distaff as a symbol of Scottish
thrift.

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 47

The Fair Flagmaker ; or, The First Union Jack (1801).—

Painted in 1892. Exhibited at the Royal Academy the same
year ; and at the Paris Salon in 1903. Size, 78 in. x 56 in.
In the possession of M. Adrien Chevallier. The copyright
is the property of the Fine Art Society, New Bond Street.

Whispering words of love and devotion in his lady's willing ear, and
in that uniform which the memories of " Nelson and the Nile " have so
endeared to us, a young lieutenant is urging his suit. She meanwhile
lingers half regretfully over the final stitches of her task. Hanging
on the wall is a tapestry of the Spanish Armada — a copy of one of
those which used to hang in the old Houses of Parliament. There
is also a model of a three-decker, the St. George, twin ship of the
Royal George. In the foreground lies the letter which contains the
directions as to how the flag was to be cut, and a volume of
Dibdin's songs.

The Bayswater Omnibus. — Painted in 1895. Exhibited at the
Royal Academy in the same year, at the Paris Salon in 1896,
also at Berlin, St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Brussels International
Exhibition. Size, 48 in. x 69 in.

In the farthest corner sits a poor anxious mother of children, her
foot propped on an untidy bundle ; beside her, full of kindly thoughts
about her, sits a fashionable young woman ; next to her the City
man, absorbed in his paper; whilst a little milliner, bandbox in
hand, presses past the blue-eyed, wholesome-looking nurse in the
doorway.

The King's Drum Shall Never be Beaten for Rebels (1798).

— Painted in 1891. Exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1892,
and at the Paris Salon in 1893. Size, 45 in. x 60 in. In the
possession of Patrick Ness, Esq.

Left behind by the retreating English, after the battle of Goree, in
1798, Hunter, a boy drummer of the Antrim Regiment, was sum-
moned by the leaders of the rebel army to beat his drum at their
head. The story states that he stoutly refused, and, kicking a hole
in the drum, cried, " The King's drum shall never be beaten for
rebels." Whereupon he was brutally slain by one of the pikemen.

The officer in grey in the foreground represents one of those
Frenchmen who were fighting on the side of the Irish, such as the

48 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

proverbial " Napper Tandy," who figures so often in the songs of
the period.

*#* Colour Note. — The picture was entirely painted out of doors, and is a faithful
nature study of green leaves and sodden pasture lands, as well as of the various
uniforms, in the fading evening light.

Gordon's Last Stand ; or The Death of General Gordon (Jan. 26,
1885). Painted in 1893. Exhibited at the Royal Academy in
1894, and at the Paris Salon in 1895. Size, 120 in. x 84 in.
The copyright is the property of Messrs. Frost & Reed,
of Bristol.

Now mark this, if the expeditionary force — and I ask for no more than 200
men — does not come in ten days, the town may fall ; and I have done my best
for the honour of our country. Good-bye. — C. G. GORDON. — Extract from Diary,
Dec. 14, 1884.

At the head of the steps outside the Divan, in the grey morning
light, stands the dark figure of the General, alone against a multitude !
On they come, those white-clad, ragged Dervishes, who have swarmed
across the river, filled the town, and are even now pouring into the
courtyard of the Palace, surging up the steps and almost to the
very feet of their victim. It is stated by eye-witnesses that, over-
awed by the calm dignity of his presence, they hesitated for a
moment to approach nearer. It is this moment that is chosen
for illustration — the pause before the mad rush of the fanatics,
which overwhelmed the General and the two or three trusty
followers who were all he would allow himself from the outer
defences of the city. On the broad forehead of the hero the light
of morn strikes for the last time; in his right hand he holds the
revolver — not for use, but as a token of " no surrender." The
sword is in its scabbard. There is a look half-scornful, half-defiant,
in his face as he calmly asks them their business.

*#* Colour Note. — The Dervishes' coats and arms were all studied from actual
examples from the Soudan. Some of the great broadswords remind one of those of
the Crusaders. They are carried by straps hung over one shoulder instead of across
the chest. One of the rules of their sect was that they were not to renew their coats,
which accounts for their patched condition. As the patches were of every conceivable
colour, they produced a curiously varied, but picturesque, effect.

Ella. — Daughter of the Rev. J. Hume Townsend. Size, 26 in.
~x" 20 in.

*#* Colour Note. — The Japanese fan held by the lady inspired the artist in his colour
scheme.

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 49

A Merchantman Seeking Goodly Pearls.— Painted in 1899.
Exhibited at the Royal Academy the same year, also at the
Guildhall in 1900. Size, 46 in. x 26 in. The property of
H. Bleckley, Esq.

By the fading light of evening, at the heavily barred window of an
Eastern caravansery, the merchantman, in his saffron-coloured robe,
scrutinises his pearl of great price, well satisfied with his purchase.

*«* Note.— The merchantman may symbolise the heart of man, which seeks to
possess itself of that one and only treasure, permanent and lasting as eternity itself, in
comparison with which all is but dross; or, in another figure, the very Lord of Life
Himself trying the hearts of men to see whether they be worthy of a place in His crown,
" when He maketh up His jewels."

Palm Sunday : Waiting for the Lord. — Painted in 1882. Ex-
hibited the same year at the Royal Academy. Size, 36 in. x 42 in.
On the roadside, between Bethany and Jerusalem, is a group of
Eastern folk waiting for " Jesus of Nazareth " to pass by.

%* Colour Note. — This picture has many of the characteristics of a painter's early
work. It has hard outlines, and a suggestiveness in its colour of the influence of the
old masters. It was painted entirely in the studio, with no regard to out-door effects.

An Offering. — Exhibited at the Royal Academy as Mary of
Bethany. Painted in 1899. Exhibited the same year at the
Royal Academy. Size, 46 in. x 26 in.

With her luxuriant tresses ready for that act of grace, which was
to win for her, for all time, her Saviour's commendation, Mary
awaits the permission of her Lord to pour the precious ointment
upon His head, and to "anoint Him to the burial."

*»* Note.— The a\alia<rrp<n> was often of glass, and of almost any shape. This
dress was actually made in Bethany, and, though modern, is supposed to be similar
to those worn in ancient days.

Christ and a Little Child. — Painted in 1897-98. Exhibited at
the Royal Academy in 1898, and at the Paris Salon in 1900.
Size, 76 in. x 104 in. The copyright is the property of Franz
Hanfstaengl.
"He that is least amongst you all, the same shall be great." — St. Luke ix. 48.

In the early evening hours, on the well side in an Eastern court-
yard, sits the Saviour of mankind. The little child, a boy, half
shy, half confiding, encouraged by the mother's gentle touch, clings
to the Saviour's finger. His fears are hushed in that loving
Presence ; whilst those around him listen to those words of ever-
H

5o NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

lasting import : " He that is least among you all, the same shall
be great " ; and those other words — " Take heed that ye despise
not one of these little ones ; for I say unto you, that in heaven
their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in
heaven." The man on the ground represents a scribe, and, from
his superior dress, may be supposed to be the " greatest " in
culture and position. Outside, in the warm light of the passage,
there is a disputing group, and in the doorway a Pharisee upbraids
a young girl who is trying to force her way in. Sick folk, growing
clamorous, block up the way.

*#* Colour Note.— The grey silvery light on the white-washed walls contrasts with
the warm mellow light of evening outside. The green soft leaves and tendrils of the
vine, with its one poor shrivelled bunch of grapes, typical of the small and apparently
hopeless state of a cause fraught with such mighty issues ; the stained and bleached
garments of the Galilean fishermen, melting into each other and into the background
of grey ; and the flesh tones of the child, give warmth and colour to what might
otherwise look a cold and dry picture.

Baby Bedouin. — Painted in 1895. Exhibited the same year at
the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Acquired by Mrs.
Prothero. Size, g in. x 6 in.

The King's Daughter. — Painted in 1902. Exhibited the same
year at the Royal Academy, and at the Paris Salon in 1904.
Size, 51 in. x 35 in.

This somewhat fanciful title is given to a group of three of the
artist's daughters, Susie, Rosalind, and Grace, decked out in a
medley of Syrian, Spanish, and Persian stuffs. It was painted in
the old Rectory Tithe barn at Swanage. As the colour-reproduction
does not satisfactorily render the true tone-relations of the picture,
a monochrome has been added, so that, between the two, a just'er
appreciation of the original may be reached.

A Dinner of Herbs. — Painted in 1900. Exhibited the same year
at the Royal Academy. Size, 49 in. x 49 in.

"Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred there-
with."— Proverbs.

It is spring-time, as is suggested by the daffodils which the man has
picked on his way from work. Their fare is of the simplest ; and,
though the young wife feels the cares of life, and perhaps the pinch
of poverty, yet love sits at the feast.

%* Colour Note.— The colour scheme is again of the simplest. It may be worthy of
note that the girl's embroidered shirt is of Spanish origin.

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 51

Florence ; Daughter of Thomas Masterman, Esq. (afterwards
the artist's wife). — Painted in 1877. Exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1879. Size, 24 in. x 20 in.

%* Note. — Behind are solatium plants, relieved against a light grey background.

The Danaids.— Painted in 1887 and 1888. Exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1888 ; at the Paris Salon, 1889, and at Munich,
Chicago, St. Petersburg, and Berlin. In the possession of Herr
Ludwig Lippert. Size, 72 in. x 26 in.

With an infinite sorrow at her heart, and contemplating her never-
ending, profitless task, this — the most youthful of the Danaids — the
only one guiltless of her husband's blood — prepares to fill her urn.
It is the land of Shades, far removed from the busy haunts of men.
Why she should have suffered, the innocent with the guilty, does not
appear in that fateful classic story. Behind her, and carrying their
urns down the slippery rock-paths, follow the rest of that sad
sisterhood.

A French criticism, which I must be allowed to quote, says:
" II a su mettre une grace de mystere dans sa nudite Florentine."
Whilst another likened it to a "cinque-cento" fresco.

%* Colour Note. — The background consists of a great onyx rock, which with its
white and pearly hues, streaked with rose, gives great value to the delicate flesh
tones. The pigments used were of the simplest — ochres, and genuine ultramarine ash
and blue — though, of course, hardly perceptible quantities of the two last. These were
ground in poppy oil, with my white, J lead and J zinc.

Joan of Arc.

" A Light of Ancient France."

Tennyson's " Dream of Fair Women."

Painted in 1895. Exhibited the same year at the Royal
Academy ; at the Paris Salon in 1896. Purchased for the
Luxembourg and transferred to Rouen. Engraved by Louis
Trinquier. Size, 42 in. x 81 in.

Asleep in her tent, on her simple bed of straw, clothed and armed,
her hands still clasped in prayer, lies the virgin leader of men.
Tender and delicate as herself, an angel spreads its radiance at her
feet, taking that humble place as if to do her honour, whilst looking
with wistful glance at the face of the sleeping maiden. The tent
door is partly open, through which the first grey light of dawn
struggles fitfully, glinting here and there on cuirass, elbow and thigh
piece. This is no prison scene, but merely an illustration of her own

52 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

simple words, spoken at her trial — " La ou il n'y avait pas de
femmes ; je couchais comme les autres, mais vetue et arm6e."

*»* Note. — The management of the various lights in this picture presented
great difficulties to the artist. The angelic radiance, the low level lines of light
penetrating the opening in the tent, and the fitful flame of the lamp, each demanded
special attention, while to balance them, as they represented themselves in Nature
and with all Nature's quiet reticence, was no easy task.

A Fair Archer. — Portrait in costume of Grace, daughter of
W. H. Nicholson, Esq. Painted in 1884. Exhibited at the
Royal Academy, 1885. Size, 50 in. x 30 in.

\* Colour Note.— The lady wears a light blue brocade of the Gainsborough
period. An old family relic.

A Kelpie. — Exhibited at the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours

in 1899. Size, 18 in. x 14 in.

On a great boulder-stone, overflowed by the softly gliding waters,
sits a kelpie, the spirit of the stream. Should any mortal come
that way, penetrating the cool recesses of the glen, she will doubt-
less vanish into one . or other of the deep pools between which she
sits, watching the circling eddies of the water.

%* Note.— This little picture, and its companion " Pixies," hangs in the Arts Club
in Dover Street.

A. B. Bruce-Joy, Esq., R.H.A. — Portrait of the artist's brother.
Painted in 1889. Exhibited the same year at the Royal
Academy. In the possession of A. B. Bruce-Joy, Esq.
Represented in his sculptor's studio in his workmanlike grey coat,
and with his favourite tools around him, with an unfinished sketch
in red clay still under his formative touch, he looks earnestly at
his model — a child in a young mother's arms.

Truth. — Painted in 1892-3. Exhibited at the Royal Academy in
1893, at the Paris Salon in 1894, and subsequently in Berlin.
Purchased by the German Government for the Berlin National
Gallery. Size, 102 in. x 37 in. The copyright is the property
of the Berlin Photographic Company.

" A little child, having lowered her bucket into an old and disused
well, was surprised to see, therein standing, the very Goddess of
Truth herself, who, having shown her her face in a glass, and filled
her bucket with sweet water from her well, straightway vanished."
In this instance the artist is tempted to depart from the plan
pursued by him up to this point, and to quote from another and a

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 53

more skilled pen the following lines, descriptive of his picture. They
were written by Mr. W. Woodroffe in the Art Journal, Jan., 1900 : —

That he was in sympathy with a branch of art so nearly allied to the
sculptor's we can readily believe, when we see how he has painted his other nude,
embroidering a delicate fancy on the outworn legend of " Truth in the Well."
We see the graceful figure, the face so pure, so beautiful, so true, and the raised
arm and the mirror. It is so that Truth is always propertied. She stands on a
little ledge at the bottom of the well, and holds her mirror high up over her head.
But, higher still, from the parapet of the well, the face of a little child is seen
peeping over, half amazed, half delighted ; and so, by a touch of romance, the chill
of the mere classic legend passes away.

*** Colour Note. — The warm light strikes on the child's bright hair and sun-
embrowned arm and face, contrasting with the pearly half-tones of the goddess.

A Quiet Nap. — Painted in 1888 and exhibited at the Royal Academy
the same year, and at the Paris Salon. In the possession of
Mrs. Saxleby. Size, 22 in. x 18 in.

This is a mere child's fantasy of colour, one of my own little girls
having ransacked the studio of all its treasures, and arranged them
for me to represent some sleeping Oriental beauty. With a child's
instinct for colour, there is not one false note or jarring contrast.

The Rev. Alfred Edersheim, D.D. — Exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1886. Size, 24 in. x 20 in.

Sea Breezes. — Painted in 1903. Size, 24 in. x 20 in.

An unfinished portrait sketch of my daughter Susie in my old volun-
teer great coat and cowl. Behind are the cliffs and bay of Swanage.

Britannia. — Painted in 1900. Exhibited in 1901 at the Royal

Academy. Size, 51 in. x 31 in.

Erect but not defiant, leaning on her naked sword, stands Britannia
— mother of nations. She looks half sorrowfully, half wistfully, in the
direction of the foe. Has the time yet come when the olive branch
of peace may be held out with some hope of its acceptance, or
must the dire arbitrament of war again be appealed to ? As we
now know, the Angel of Peace but fluttered his pinions, and then
for two bitter years the cannon's roar and the crackle of musketry
were heard upon the veldt.

%* Colour Note. — The grey cuirass and coat of mail are relieved against the warm
colours of the floating bunting, and the golden helmet of classic shape is surmounted
by a crimson plume. The quiet green of the olive branch helps to sober an otherwise
somewhat startling colour scheme. (It is only now that the artist is commencing to know
the value of green, to which colour he, for many years, had quite an unmannerly aversion.)

54 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

Dreams on the Veldt. — Painted in 1900. Exhibited in 1901 at
the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Size, 30 in. x 45 in.

The preceding picture was painted at the time of Lord Roberts's
victorious march and capture of Pretoria ; this one a few months
afterwards, when the war was again raging. In it is depicted a
scene on the veldt, where the wounded and dying are left to dream
their dreams after some hard-fought engagement. The bugler in
the centre of the picture turns towards the kneeling white-robed
angel, and sees, through closed lids, the brightness of her presence.
To him she looks like his own dear mother, and in her hands is
that crown of glory which shall not be taken away from him. In
the foreground is a sleeping trooper, who dreams of his child at
home, with hands clasped, praying for him. In the background is
another, an officer, over whom the Angel of Death, in the form of
his own beloved one, hangs mournfully and pityingly.

The cold light of dawn strikes the chin of the sleeping trooper
and illumines the face of the praying child and the pale china blue
of her dress ; tender warmth is, on the other hand, the character-
istic of the angel's light. The burnt-up veldt, with its chill nightly
vapours, and the steep angle of the rising hill in the background,
are suggestive of the campaigning difficulties of the country.

The Whispered Prayer. (A sketch portrait of two of the artist's
children, Susie and Cyril.) — Painted in 1889. Exhibited at the
Institute of Painters in Oil Colours in 1890, and at the Paris
Salon in 1893. Size, 13 in. x 15 in.

Kathleen (Daughter of the Rev. W. A. Wilson, Rector of
Swanage). — Painted in 1903. Exhibited in the same year at
the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Size, 26 in x 20 in.

"Lady Daffodil." Ella, daughter of the Rev. Alfred Edersheim,
D.D. (Mrs. Arnold Overton). Exhibited at the Royal Academy
in 1884, and at the Paris Salon and at Munich. Size, 24 in.
x 20 in.

Pamela's Birthday. — Painted in 1898. Exhibited in the same
year at the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Size, 38 x 32.

The little heiress, in her great leg of mutton sleeves and quaint
muslin gown, comes tripping down the old manor staircase. She is

NOTES ON THE PICTURES. 55

the birthday child, and is in the act of showing her first present — a
miniature of her father — to a dependant, who greets her affectionately
with a birthday kiss. Her little brother, " with shining morning
face," his arms full of lilies, waits patiently his turn of greeting.

Poor Bulgaria. — Painted in 1895. Exhibited at the Institute of
Oil Painters in the same year. Size, 26 in. x 24 in.

A painter's record of the Bulgarian atrocities.

%* Colour Note.— The cap is yellow, with a silver disc and a black tassel of home-
spun silk. She wears a striped red jacket.

Pixies. — Painted in 1899. Exhibited in the same year at the
Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Size, 18 in. x 14 in.

Deep down in some secluded Yorkshire dell these little folks have
been disporting themselves. The wet boulders tell the tale of their
splashings and fun in the balmy summer air. At the mouth of a cave,
their refuge — should any stranger pass that way — they await the
arrival of some other little friend to join in their frolics or play at
hide and seek among the bracken and ferns, the deep pools and
babbling waterfalls, of this very Paradise of water babies.

Phil. — (Son of Gerald Robinson, Esq.) A sketch portrait in oils.
Size, 24. in x 20 in.

Guardian Elves. — Painted in 1893. Exhibited at Royal Academy,
1894; Salon, Paris, 1895; Paris International Exhibition, 1900.
Size, 32 in. x 22 in.

On a mossy ledge overhanging an old sand pit — now full of water —
sits a child, who has crawled from a neighbouring cottage, after
being undressed for his evening " tub." The " Guardian Elves " are
winding cobwebs round him through which he cannot pass, whilst a
hare, behind a furze bush, endeavours to attract his attention and lure
him to less dangerous ground.

%* Note. — The fairies, which are nearly the same colour as the grass in the
picture, are, unfortunately, almost invisible in the reproduction, whilst the little " kob-
holds," or dwarfs, among the knotted roots of the shrubs are entirely lost.

Lesbia's Sparrow. — Painted in 1896. Exhibited in 1897 at the
Institute of Painters in Oil Colours. Size, 30 in. x 27 in.

In the sultry air of, let us say, Kashmire, this modern Lesbia, fresh
from the bath, amuses herself with her tame sparrow.

56 NOTES ON THE PICTURES.

Girl and Dog. — Unfinished. Size, 55. in x 31 in.

The artist's daughter Viola, in Florentine cinque-cento costume.

*#* Colour Note. — Gold inwrought dark blue bodice and sleeves ; light blue elbow
and shoulder pieces ; faded pink silken skirt.

Patience. — Painted in 1897. Exhibited in the same year at the

Royal Academy. Size, 30 in. x 25 in.

A little maiden in a pink and silvery white dressing-gown, recovering
from some childish ailment, sits wearily, propped up with cushions,
playing Patience ; the poor little mother has not even a heart for
her dolls. Some kind friend has brought her a pot of cyclamen,
and another a bunch of violets.

A Drummer of the Peninsular.— Painted in 1901. Exhibited at
the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours in 1902, and the same
year at the Paris Salon. In the possession of M. de
Waubert de Genlis.

In the early morning light, just roused from his rough bed of straw,
mud-bespattered from the previous day's march, stands a drummer
of Wellington's Army. Unrested and breakfastless though he be, he
is ready once more to face the dreary fatigue of the road.

Laodamia. — Painted in 1877. Exhibited at the Royal Academy
in 1878, at the Paris Salon in 1880, also at New Orleans.
Size, 78 in. x 72 in.

With sacrifice, before the rising morn

Performed, my slaughtered lord have I required,
And in thick darkness, amid shades forlorn,
Him of the infernal gods have I desired.
Celestial pity I again implore,
Restore him to my sight, great Jove, restore ! Wordsworth.

Bringing an offering of flowers to the tomb of her dead husband
Protesilaus (the first Greek warrior to be slain in the Trojan War),
Laodamia bewails her fate, and cries aloud to the gods. The poet
relates that her prayer was granted, and Protesilaus came back to
her for one brief hour, and in £he agony of her second loss of him
she too died.

*.* Colour Note. — As the previous picture was one of the artist's latest works, so this
is one of bis first efforts. In each, colour was the principal aim ; in this picture rich
flesh tones are relieved against a deep blue sea. The flush of departing sunlight gives
a glow to the head and upper portions of the figure and warmth to the cold marble
and golden tripod. Black and gold diaphanous draperies, burnt-up grass, and climbing
daffodils fill up the lower portions of the picture.

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ELLA, DAUGHTER OF THE REV. J. H. TOWNSEND, D.D.

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497 The work of George V. Joy

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